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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944537">A Strongly-Worded Letter to Love itself</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nentofus/pseuds/nentofus'>nentofus</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildinjaelyn/pseuds/wildinjaelyn'>wildinjaelyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Uta no Prince-sama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Cheesy, Developing Friendships, F/M, Family Drama, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Romance, Saotome JC AU, Self-Reflection, Singapore, Singlish, Some NSFW bits, Songfic, Swearing, possible ooc, some use of Chinese, the Kurusu family explored</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:40:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nentofus/pseuds/nentofus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildinjaelyn/pseuds/wildinjaelyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"A terrible attempt at romance." 0/5 Refund pls</p>
</blockquote>Exploring Syo as a more flawed character. Set in a Singaporean High School/Junior College AU, this is a story of youth and mistakes. Two different people who somehow ended up in the same school, same class, same clique.<p>My 2020 birthday project for Syo!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ittoki Otoya &amp; Kurusu Shou | Kurusu Syo, Kurusu Kaoru &amp; Kurusu Shou | Kurusu Syo, Kurusu Shou | Kurusu Syo/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Foreword</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is set in a Singaporean High School/Junior College (JC) AU. For more details about this AU, please check out saotomejc.carrd.co :)</p><p>Spotify playlist for this fic: tinyurl.com/syojae</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>Foreword</b>
</h1>
<p>What’s it like going through high school in Singapore? Or, in more colloquial terms, a JC? (An acronym for Junior College. Seriously, I don’t know why but locals just LOVE using acronyms for everything.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Your average JC student goes through two years of <strike>emotional torture</strike> intense preparation for their final Singapore-Cambridge GCE ‘A’ Levels exams (a fancy way of spelling ‘something that sucks the life out of you’). Sometimes we just call it ‘As’ (pronounced ‘ace’).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, I think that's enough background context for now. More will be explained later if needed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For this story, expect a slightly different kind of Syo from the original canon. After all, it is an AU. My main intention is to explore a more flawed and less refined Syo, rather than his usual polished idol image that everyone sees. I tried to weave in as much canon &amp; anime details as I could (albeit with some creative liberties). If you disagree with how I characterised Syo in here, that's fine too. It's just a dumb fanfic lol</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anyway, do expect some Singlish (local colloquial English) and authentic local school life and a bit of cultural stuff. There will be a certain degree of localisation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I also did my best to research heart conditions, though I’m still not 100% confident about it. Apologies if there are inconsistencies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although it’s a first-person narration, a friendly reminder to separate the narrator from the author. After all, none of this is real, <strike>and my self-shipping is merely a form of coping mechanism</strike> but let’s just have fun anyway!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Happy birthday 10 days in advance Syo! </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Let’s get this show on the road!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. SWING</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>ACT 1 - Peony</b>
</h1><p> </p><p>
  <em> “The peony flower symbolises bashfulness, romance, and compassion.” </em>
</p>
<h2>
  <b>SWING by TWICE</b>
</h2><p>
  <em> 朝いちばんキミに会えて I feel fine </em>
</p><p>
  <em> それだけで今日も頑張れそう </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Getting to see you first thing in the morning, I feel fine </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I feel like I can do my best again today just because of that </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ey, bRO, how you doin’?!” </p><p> </p><p>“Brooo, see you later! For Korzy!”</p><p> </p><p>After exchanging their dramatic final words, Syo and Otoya gave each other a heart with their arms. (The ones with your hand on your head and you arching your elbows to form the curve.)</p><p> </p><p>I just happened to chance upon them near the concourse study tables, and perhaps with a slight tinge of envy towards their bromance, I smiled. They seemed so comfortable with each other. And it was only the first few weeks of school.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ズルイなその笑顔 勘違いしちゃいそう </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh please 勝手にほらハートが Butterflies </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That sneaky smile, it seems like I might misunderstand </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh please, look, my heart has decided to be butterflies </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Jae! Good day, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>He waved at me, with his navy blue backpack slung over one shoulder. His gudetama keychain, hanging from his bag, looked like it was about to puke from motion sickness.</p><p> </p><p>I smiled at him from the study table, my hand resembling something like a wave back at him, before he turned and skittered down the stairs (probably to the canteen).</p><p> </p><p>That guy—even before we became classmates, I already kinda knew him as ‘that weird guy who came up to me randomly to say a cheesy pickup line about shoelaces as a forfeit during orientation games’.  </p><p> </p><p>It seemed like the engines of fate were already in full motion: we’re classmates, and on top of that we’re both in the same class committee (him being Class Chairperson, most likely due to popular vote, and I being a rank below him), and we’re somehow even in the same Project Work (PW) group. </p><p> </p><p>All these coincidences were lowkey creepy, not gonna lie. Did someone up there already have my life all figured it out?</p><p> </p><p>And I swear I kept seeing him everywhere—maybe it’s because he kept shouting ‘HI’ at literally everyone he had ever met before.</p><p> </p><p><em> I mean, he seems like a great guy. </em> Friendly, warm, energetic, definitely can hype up the crowd. Everyone seemed to like him—maybe that’s an understatement; he was already calling some teachers by their first name (privately as a joke). That was great, because I would very much prefer a drama-free life. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Jae~ You’re good friends with Syo, right?” Tomo, from my Maths class suddenly asked one day, putting her arm around my neck.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Tomo, I thought I told you already—” I smiled, “we’re just forced to work together for some stuff. But sometimes we do eat together in the canteen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ehh, that’s fine! Just ask him to return my GC. He borrowed it like, last week and he hasn’t returned!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh... legit? Then just ask him la?”</p><p> </p><p>“Haha, I wouldn’t be approaching you if that worked!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> パスワードは </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 秘密 “Like you” キミは Just friends </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The password is </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A secret “like you,” but you’re just friends </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Cecil, your notes,” I stretched my arm out to my classmate’s seat in front of me, passing him the photocopied set. “20 cents please.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, thank you very much Jae!” He dropped the coins onto my palm.</p><p> </p><p>Just as I was keeping my coins, another outstretched palm came into my sight. “Where’s mine?” Syo grinned at me audaciously.</p><p> </p><p>That guy—he didn’t even ask me to print! “Pay me service charge first.”</p><p> </p><p>“Daylight robbery, eh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, sorry, may I <em> kindly </em> ask, who was the one who stole Tomo’s $180 GC?”</p><p> </p><p>“Guys, please, the lecture is starting,” Cecil shushed the both of us.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah, Jae, thanks for reminding me!” Syo screamed in a whisper, his voice passing behind another classmate to reach my ears, still grinning at me.<em> I can’t believe him! </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 今のところ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 壊したい衝動 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No no no 抑えてもダメかも舞い上がって </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Where I am right now </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The urge I want to break </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No no no even if I hold back, I get whirled up thinking it might not work </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo (1933): ‘jae. ik we dun agree on a shitton of things but’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Me: ‘oh, so you need my help? lmao next time just say la’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘nO! i mean. okay, yes, prolly. since ur a girl im asking u. need some girl advice u kno wat i mean rite?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘LMAOOOOOOO’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘eH BRO IVE NEVER GOTTEN CONFESSED TO B4 OK’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘o SHIT SKDJFH well, i mean,,, i won’t deny that you ARE quite popular,,,,,’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘ya so. what do i say.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>We barely even knew each other beyond stupid everyday banters, yet he still approached me?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘uhhhhhhh first of all. how do u feel towards her.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo is typing... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Is he actually typing an essay?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘i don’t dislike her.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oh, I should’ve known.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘ouch. feelsbad for the girl man.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The chat goes silent for a while.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘she just asked me out on a date. prolly.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘so,,,, you gonna go?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘ofc im gg! ive nvr gone on a date b4!!’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>If you ask me, I think guys shouldn’t be trusted until after they graduate.</p><p> </p><p>Later, we ended up discussing the ideal first date locations. I was aggressively pushing for ice-skating (I could go on and on about this but that’s a story for another day), but the girl replied that she didn’t like ice skating. Though he seemed excited at the prospect of it. And, of course, I lectured him about not being late. Clothes-wise, I trust he had like a hundred different combinations already laid out in his mind. And, the finances stuff? Just go dutch on the first date.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘are you actually taking down notes’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘planning is half the success, jae, did u kno that?’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘of course I do. but improvs are much more impressive.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘o i can do song improvs!!’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘don’t do it in the public’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Then I added, <em> ‘actually idc lmao whatever you do just don’t embarrass yourself. and also edit the wr chapter 3!!’ </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘dw bro, just gotta b confident’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he was so confident that he ended up going on dates with many diffferent girls. They were all short-lived, though. (I’ll spare everyone the second-hand embarrassment.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 空中でブランコ手を離せば落下 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey you ちゃんと掴んでね </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 夢ではスルーしない Happy end </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ll fall out of my swing in the sky if I let go of my hand </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey you, hold on tight </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s no ignoring me in my dreams, a happy end </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His part of the document was <em> still </em> blank, after so many days.</p><p> </p><p>With cold fingers, I texted, “Syo, can you <em> please </em> edit Chapter 3.2 of the WR? We literally need to submit the next draft in 2 days. I know you said you’re busy with A-divs, but you promised the entire group you would do your part.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And he left me on read.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> At least turn off your bluetick, you fucking idiot! I’ll be less pissed. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You look troubled,” remarked Ren, propping his head up with his fist. “and that expression doesn’t suit you at all~ What’s wrong? Is it PW?”</p><p> </p><p>This man just decided to randomly sit down at my table, after I’d spoken to Masato, a fellow Vice-chairperson. I didn’t know why, but he was that guy who everyone kinda knew about because I saw him everywhere, always vibing around with people. (I guess, kinda like Syo, but less annoying.) We were exchanging a bit of small talk before I was reminded of the WR draft deadline.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, uh, there’s a slacker in my group, so... tea.” I shrugged, adding a bit of resigned chuckle for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, slackers. Aren’t they just the worst?” He straightened his back, ears perking up. “Why don’t you let me in on who it is?”</p><p> </p><p>“No man, what if you know him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh fair lady, what an affront on my good, well-intentioned soul!” </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, sorry, I just—” </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. You can trust me~,” his voice was so smooth, like butter, I just had to believe him. Looks like someone invested all their skill points in the Charisma tree.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, fine, there’s this person called Syo. From my class. 1933. He’s always late for our Skype meetings, and sometimes he doesn’t even show up at all!”</p><p> </p><p>Ren nodded at me with a sympathetic smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I know he’s busy with A-divs and stuff but my issue, with him, is that he keeps promising stuff he knows he can’t do. But he still keeps doing it!” I huffed, staring at my table. In response, Ren gave a small “Mm-hmm”.</p><p> </p><p>I continued, “Everyone is literally willing to hardcarry for him right now, but nOPE—he insists on doing everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh <em> Syo. </em> He’s that guy from… Dragonboat, right? I’ve seen him around, though it’s not like it’s difficult with how much attention he attracts. Who knew that everyone’s favourite <em> xiaodidi </em> was causing trouble for his PW mates~? <em> No, no, </em>that simply can’t be!” Ren paused, a sly look darting across his face before turning his eyes back to me. “And yet, no one seems to think that he can get any worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait—what do you mean...?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, what a surprise. Haven’t you heard?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?? Just tell me!”</p><p> </p><p>Look, I might not be a person who partakes actively in tea-spilling, but Ren’s lure was like a cornucopia of food in the sight of several starving humans. </p><p> </p><p>Ren leaned in and whispered, “He’s a player.”</p><p> </p><p>Then he leaned back with a smug smile, observing me.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 優しいよね誰にでもそうなの </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 期待しちゃう (しちゃう) </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 少しだけ キミは Just friends </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’re so kind, to anyone and everyone </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ll end up with my hopes up </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just a little, you’re just friends </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oh,<em> that </em> tea? “Yeah, I already know. And want to know more? He actually asked me for dating advice. And you know what he called it? <em> ‘Girl advice.’ </em> Seriously.” I almost wanted to burst out laughing. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my, that’s kind of... cute,” Ren sounded like he was talking about people who couldn’t afford those Airpods.</p><p> </p><p>Then he suddenly eyed his expensive-looking watch and went, “Apologies, lady, I need to make a move. Talk to you sometime, alright?” </p><p> </p><p>He exited the scene gracefully, walking with an air of decided fashion towards the classrooms.</p><p> </p><p>And then, my heart did a somersault when I just noticed Syo walk past me, from my back.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t look back.</p><p> </p><p>The ‘龍’ character on the back of his CCA shirt gradually shrunk in the distance.</p><p> </p><p>“Well. Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> せつないけど </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 守れるかな </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No no no 別れない友達それでいいの？ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s painful, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I wonder if I can hold it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No no no, is it okay to just be friends that never part? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘im omw home on the bus but im editing chapt 2’ - sent 23:42, today </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It was followed by a cursed double-chin selfie in the PW group chat, somehow proving that he’s actually being productive. I opened the document. True enough, the words were moving by themselves.</p><p> </p><p>He’s... actually doing it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I just needa write up the explanation for Strategy 1, right?” </p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” I look up and see Syo, sliding into the seat opposite me, then lifting his laptop open. “Uh, yeah...”</p><p> </p><p>His face was totally obscured by his laptop screen, except for his deep frown and intensely focused eyes, much like a magnifying glass concentrating all of the sun’s light energy onto a single point.</p><p> </p><p>“What a nice... surprise... to see you show up.” Even the other group members hadn’t arrived yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he stuffed his earpiece into his ears. His voice was lower than usual. “I’ll do my shit today.”</p><p> </p><p>For the first time ever, I couldn’t shoot a jibe towards him.</p><p> </p><p>Which was then preceded by our most productive group meeting ever. Even our other group mates were impressed by Syo’s sudden enthusiasm. They began thanking and complimenting him for not forgetting about his academic responsibilities—he smiled back, lightheartedly apologising for not contributing earlier. Now that club activities were to stand down in preparation for mid-years, he finally had the time and energy to focus on PW.</p><p> </p><p>As for me, though, I remained mostly silent the entire time, watching him, as my mind kept replaying that conversation with Ren.</p><p> </p><p>On the way home, I found out that, amazingly, both him and I actually do take the same MRT line back. Our dismissal timings just never coincided, until today, because of our different schedules. </p><p> </p><p>Which was the worst timing ever to discover this fact, because I was hoping to avoid him entirely. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 飛び込むのはとっても怖い </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 傷つくのなんてムリ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s so scary to jump in </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t handle getting hurt </em>
</p><p> </p><p>We stood in the empty area, near the door in the train carriage. I realised we’re both not a big fan of holding the poles. He’s scrolling through Instagram. Thank god. I can just use my phone too—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> でももしかしたら </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But maybe, just maybe </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Everything will be all right </em>
</p><p> </p><p>All of a sudden, someone, presumably another commuter that was rushing for the exit, shoved me away—caught in a blur, my soul almost yeeted out of my body—until I felt his grip on my right upper arm. </p><p> </p><p>For a moment, I was caught between gravity and his pull.</p><p> </p><p>Then I quickly stabilised myself, cheeks burning, as everyone’s eyes seemed to bore holes inside me. Subconsciously, I ran my hands across the surface of where his fingers came into contact, still feeling the imprint he left on me.</p><p> </p><p>“Just hold the pole la Jae, won’t hurt right?” He casually remarked the obvious.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” I huffed, taking out my phone to scroll through Instagram, “Thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>“... Eh, no insults today? Are you okay, Jae?”</p><p> </p><p>“W-What? You want me to insult you? Are you a masochist?” </p><p> </p><p>“And she’s back,” he smiles, flashing his teeth. “Felt something was off today. I thought you were angry or something.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? I thought <em> you </em> were angry at me.”</p><p> </p><p>“For what sia?” </p><p> </p><p>If he actually didn’t know, then... “Never mind. It’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 明日がきっと変わる </em>
</p><p>
  <em> キミのとなりで Keep on smile </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tomorrow will surely be different </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Next to you, keep on smiling </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oi, tell me leh.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to know!” I turned my face away from him. “Anyway, I’m not—I’m not angry with you, for that matter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eh sure or not? You sound very contradictory,” he sounded like he was just about to break into the world’s most bone-tickling one-liner.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine, the room is burning but everything is fine. Please just kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I really like you キミは Just friends </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I really like you, you’re just friends </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b> GC </b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>A local acronym for ‘graphing calculator’. </p>
</blockquote><br/><b> A-divs </b><blockquote>
  <p> Shortened form of ‘A divisions’, which refers to the inter-school sports games between post-secondary institutions. </p>
</blockquote><br/><b> PW </b><blockquote>
  <p> An acronym for Project Work, which is a graded subject for all first-years. It is a year-long project and students are not allowed to choose their own group members. Since our PW grade affects our final A-level score and thus affects our university admissions, people tend to prioritise grades over relationships, which can lead to petty friendship drama if group members don’t do their part.<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/><b> WR </b><blockquote>
  <p> An acronym for Written Report, which is an important part of our final PW grade.<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/><b> xiaodidi </b><blockquote>
  <p> In Chinese, this term literally means ‘younger brother’, but people in general do not address their younger brother with this. It’s usually used in a tone of mockery towards someone who looks younger than their supposed age. Think of it as the weeb equivalent of ‘shota’. </p>
</blockquote><br/><b> CCA </b><blockquote>
  <p> An acronym for 'Co-Curricular Activities'. Fancy name for a club activity in local schools. </p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. For Forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Being allowed to dream is one of the best things in life.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>For Forever by Ben Platt (Dear Evan Hansen Soundtrack)</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>End of May or early June</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This picture-perfect afternoon we shared</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Drive the winding country road</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grab a scoop at À La Mode</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then we're there</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of us were just casually mugging together for the first time during June holidays. We were back in school, at the concourse study area. Some tables were empty, though a number were occupied by other students. In front of us, we piled up our Economics notes, Literature texts, marked assignments and other relevant stuff. Mostly mine though, since Syo’s ones had already disappeared into oblivion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After we grabbed McDonald’s for breakfast, we’d been decomposing at our study table for three hours. It was either Syo continually asking me to explain the elasticity concepts (because he slept during the goddamn lectures), or me debating with him whether the Duke was truly a hero in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Measure for Measure</span>
  </em>
  <span> to no fruitful end. (He kept saying I judged the Duke too harshly—well had he actually done his job in the first place the entire shitshow with Angelo wouldn’t have happened!)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At some point, I began staring into the distance, where the faraway Science building was, sitting atop a slope with a big tree in the front. No thought, head empty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I suddenly heard his voice say, “Wanna lie down at the field?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro what—” I regained a bit of my sanity, “are you legit it’s fucking hot outside—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the shade la</span>
  <em>
    <span> bodoh</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh... </span>
  <em>
    <span>cheh</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An open field that's framed with trees</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We pick a spot and shoot the breeze</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like buddies do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Quoting songs by our favorite bands</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Telling jokes no one understands</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Except us two</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And we talk and take in the view</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just two of us chilling on the fake grass field, under the shade of trees, five feet apart cause we’re just friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, the grass blades prickled my back slightly. I looked up, marvelling at the majestic expanse of the clear blue sky. Beside me, Syo let out a long sigh of relief, exclaiming, “Ahhhh—the wind, so nice!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound like an old man,” I snickered, closing my eyes, enjoying the cool breeze brush against my cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I can retire and enjoy my life with CPF,” he replied, slurring his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to assume you’ll have enough CPF money.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... You’re right, I’d prolly be dead by then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun seemed to shine a little brighter, shying away from the clouds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, if you die before me I’ll kill you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hah, good luck with that—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughed his trademark victory laugh, one that he uses when he thinks he’s won an argument. I groaned in good humour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, plane engines rumble the earth, and I spot just another commercial plane gliding across the sky. “Dude, it’s a plane!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turn to my right, and his eyes are closed, fast asleep. Despite the noise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks just like a child, whose belly is full from second servings, sleeping in pure satisfaction. I noticed, he placed both hands on his abdomen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you look like you’re sleeping in a coffin,” I blurted out my thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just practicing for the day I do.” His eyes are still closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit—you’re awake?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I’m woke, baby,” he finally opens his eyes, hands gesturing a </span>
  <span>🤟</span>
  <span> sign.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lame.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since it was the holidays, there were very few students around. The ones who came back were definitely those muggers/hardworking ones.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Well, not saying I’m a hardworking student anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All we see is sky for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We let the world pass by for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Feels like we could go on for forever this way</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two friends on a perfect day</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The days seemed to melt together in the June holidays, as we mugged and died in every single subject (or at least our common ones—Economics, English Lit and Mathematics). It soon became a tradition to just lie down, in the shade, at the field every day. (Unless it was raining, of course.) Not gonna lie, it was rather therapeutic, to say the least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As we laid in our usual spot, one day, I asked, “Why’d you choose to mug with me? You have other friends right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeahhh,” he hesitated, “I know, but it’s, you know, awkward...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awkward...? </span>
  <em>
    <span>You?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to explain it! I talk to them every day doesn’t mean I can just—randomly go up there and ask right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Otoya leh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, he just likes to mug alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh, okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We walk a while and talk about</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The things we'll do when we get out of school</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bike the Appalachian trail or</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Write a book or learn to sail</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wouldn't that be cool?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mid-June, we’re both having a motivation drought. The papers sit in front of us, waiting for us to read, but we both just couldn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, what are exams anyway, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So we did what every other normal person did—lie down in the field and wait for inspiration to come.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AhhhHHHh I can’t wait to graduate!” I exclaimed in pure annoyance, “I wanna go overseas and paint and study fine arts!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-Overseas?! That’s actually kinda cool...!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know right? I could totally experience the four seasons! And if I get to go Europe, maybe Vienna, I can see the old masters’ art studios and everything! Like, all the historical stuff is there.” I prop myself up in vigour. “Oh! Last December, at the National Gallery, they actually brought in Monet’s iconic paintings?! Like, the legit ones???? Imagine seeing the original painting, painted like a hundred years ago, with your very own eyes???? Now that’s,” I paused for dramatic effect, “true beauty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, Mr Hyuga would like a word with you,” he sat up too, cheekily smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get your propaganda away from me,” my cheeks hurt from smiling too much. “And you leh? What you wanna do after graduation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Obviously,” he suddenly sprung up and broke into a run. With a jump, he grasped the sun and yelled, “I’m gonna conquer the world!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, so a dictator? “World domination, huh? Definitely not clichéd,” I shout back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if I say...” He turned to face me, smiling smugly, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>are my world?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? I can’t hear you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit Jae you ruined it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And I dab, of course, ironically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There's nothing that we can't discuss</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like girls we wish would notice us but never do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looks around and says to me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"There's nowhere else I'd rather be"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I say, "me too"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And another day, I was rolling around on the grass, wailing, “Tomo’s so fucking cool???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she has a lot of secret admirers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’m one of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at me like I’ve just poured orange juice into his milk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What,” I laid on my stomach, looking up at him. “I’m bi, sue me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh...” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I could see him adding that word into his mental dictionary. “What, you’ve never seen a queer person before?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I just... It’s just... new to me...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“New?” I scoffed, “More like you’ve been living under a rock.” Which was ironic, considering his super active social life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well—you ain’t wrong,” he said, shrugging, lips folding into a horizontal line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And we talk and take in the view</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We just talk and take in the view</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh??? You’re the person I least expect to have that kind of reaction...” I sat up properly, sensing a shift in tone to a more serious note. He kept avoiding my gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All we see is sky for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We let the world pass by for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Feels like we could go on for forever this way, this way</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae—I need to tell you something. I literally haven’t told others, Otoya as well, but...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All we see is light for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause the sun shines bright for forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a story of a pair of twins, brought unto this world on the fateful ninth day of June. One was perfectly healthy and strong; the other, cursed with a physical defect in the heart. The cursed twin could only watch his brother go outside to play, as he was trapped, sick in his bed, sick of his life. O, merciful God, was there no cure for this young man? Nay, indeed. He may tradeth for more time, but thou shalt not know thy Father’s great plans for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like we'll be alright for forever this way</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two friends on a perfect day</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Jesus...”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>mugging</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>In Singapore, this term actually refers to intense studying.<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/><b>bodoh</b><blockquote>
  <p><br/>A Malay term which refers to a stupid or foolish person.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>cheh</b><blockquote>
  <p>A Singlish word which shows exasperation.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b> CPF </b><blockquote>
  <p><br/>An acronym for Central Provident Fund, which is a compulsory savings and pension plan for working Singaporeans and permanent residents primarily to fund their retirement, healthcare, and housing needs in Singapore. (From Wiki)<br/></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This is Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Syo's backstory + first appearance of Kaoru &amp; some of their family interactions in this AU!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>This is Me by Keala Settle (The Greatest Showman Soundtrack)</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am not a stranger to the dark</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the longest time, I hated myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hide away, they say</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If there was a legit God, somewhere up there, in control of my life, I swear—he's trying to speedrun my playthrough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause we don't want your broken parts</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued, “You probably think I’m really healthy. Everyone does.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I was blessed with an unforgiving and weak heart. And as if God was rubbing salt in my wound, my twin brother—born from the exact same womb—had </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> zero health defects.” He brought his fingers up in an ‘okay’ sign.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t understand the gravity of my situation fully, until I was 12. Before that, I thought, maybe the doctor just really liked me and kept calling me back to the hospital. And I only knew I didn't want to keep seeing my fam so worried about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“People in my primary school would freak out about me. I always tried my best to be friendly towards them, but I was never allowed to play with them during PE.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Run away, they say</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But got one guy—I think his name’s Natsuki—he didn’t think I was weird. He stayed with me every time I had to sit out of PE.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I know him from Art,” I noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But then some stuff happened between us, so in the end I really didn’t make any friends from primary school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one'll love you as you are</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There were times I ended up spending weeks and weeks in hospitals. According to Kaoru, at least. I wasn’t so sure. I even lost count the number of times I went to the ICU. The entire time I thought I was just stuck in a very long dream, prolly ‘cause they sedated me. I would dream about—ah, do you remember that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince of Fighting </span>
  </em>
  <span>TV series?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I won't let them break me down to dust</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah!” I was laying down on my stomach, listening intently to Syo’s story, with my elbows supporting my upper half. “I remember watching it on TV as a child too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Those</span>
  </em>
  <span> were the days when our local TV dramas weren't so shit.” Then I caught myself, “Uhh—sorry, go on please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so, in those super long dreams, I dreamt that I was the protagonist. You know, the really cool dude with muscles and strong arms and stuff? He’s a valiant, brave character, willing to endure whatever kind of pain so that he can defeat his enemies and, above all else, </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect people!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know that there's a place for us</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For we are glorious</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And of course, this character is done </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span> justice by Mr Hyuga, the PE HOD in our school! Bet you didn’t know that, huh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His popularity dieded a few years after the series ended though,” I commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fandom isn’t dead yet!” He sat up and gestured to himself, which prompted a pity chuckle from me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wrapped his arms around his knees, which were now crossed. “And at some point, catching </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince of Fighting </span>
  </em>
  <span>every day at 7pm gave me a will to live. All the other shows were absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>trash.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah dude—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even in the hospital, there was a TV in my ward, so I could just catch up. When I was too weak to even get up, I asked the nurses to help me record. They were super nice. Sometimes I talked and joked with them because staying in the same room every day would drive me crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, if this happened in primary school,” I couldn’t help but interject, “then how did you deal with PSLE...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the grass, and smiled, but it wasn’t his usual confident one. “So my bro—he knew my grades would be affected—so every day that I was in the hospital, he would drag his heavy schoolbag to my ward, then do homework with me. Whatever he learnt that day, he would teach me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” his voice suddenly grew deeper, “he couldn’t make it into </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> dream school. He didn’t say that, obviously, but I just know it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the far end of the field, voices from a couple other students travelled to our ears. They were fumbling around with a football. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure your bro doesn’t blame you man,” I tried to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s too nice. He won’t,” he rested his chin on his knees, “But I can’t forgive myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So which school is he in now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zhonghwa,” he replied almost immediately, “his dream school, through his O’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then? That’s good what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did not respond except with a fading smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And my parents—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>parents...</span>
  </em>
  <span>” I frowned at the mention of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will I be able to earn enough money to repay the damn medical fees? I don’t know why they insisted on putting me in a private hospital. And—all my relatives keep saying my parents could’ve expanded their careers overseas. But my mom and dad—they said they wouldn’t leave me behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patches of sunlight between the leaves above faded away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I stole a glance towards him, I swore I saw him flicking his tears off with the back of his index fingers. But, nothing more than that. He bit his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the distance, the school building flickered in a heatwave. The trees’ shade was still protecting us. He let loose of his legs, letting them stretch out as he leaned back, supporting his upper weight with both arms. I sat up after my elbows decided my body weight was too much of a burden.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude...wait then how are you still alive?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno. My heart suddenly decided to not fuck me up as much as I grew older.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just started running again, and my heart didn’t feel like it was going to kill me. Somehow. So my parents told me it was just some childhood thing that would go away after a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s great isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe my prayers were finally being answered, right?” he even sounded hopeful himself before continuing to the next line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But then I saw Kaoru cry when he turned back, right when my fam was leaving the ward one day. Why would he cry when the doctor told me everything was gonna be fine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit, bro.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As I listened to him, my fingers were subconsciously plucking the grass blades off the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I begged the nurses to tell me what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> going on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the sharpest words wanna cut me down</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And they told me that—I might—I might not live past the age of 18.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone from the far end of the field yelled a “GOAL!”, followed by several animated cheers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But how does that—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—even make sense, right?” he leaned forward, clenching his fists, “even when I feel like I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> recovering? Aren’t they like, nurses? Doctors? Medical experts? Yet they don’t know a thing? Am I really doomed? What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>am I gonna do with my last—I dunno, one and a half years on earth?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I doubt he wanted anyone’s sympathy, yet that was the only thing I could offer him at that moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The heavy, thick clouds above had already crawled from east to west.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am brave, I am bruised</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But obviously, there’s no point in blaming others. Had to learn that the hard way when I was an angsty asshole in secondary school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry bro, everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So at the start of JC, I decided, I want to live the best life—for myself. I’m gonna have the most fun before Death comes for me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked upwards, directly towards the sun’s rays as it peeked out from behind the clouds, with only his hand to guard his eyes. Golden rays showered upon him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am who I'm meant to be, this is me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In everyone’s eyes—I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be just some background character!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh Syo you probably shouldn’t stare directly into the sun—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look out 'cause here I come</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will leave a legacy behind that everyone will be thankful for!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he plopped back down onto the warm grass, under the huge trees, spreading his limbs and sighing, “Today’s a good day, isn’t it—ouch, my eyes—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, to which I had nothing but hindsight for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm marching on to the beat I drum</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As we soaked in the sounds of nature and people playing on the field, my mind wandered back to a certain moment on the day of our first form class lesson.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not scared to be seen</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So just introduce your name, secondary school, what you guys enjoy doing, and what you’d like to achieve in your two years at SJC—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I make no apologies, this is me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES,” that shortest guy in class suddenly shot up from his seat, making my shoulders jump. Our new form teacher, Mr Kotobuki, was pleasantly shocked at a 17-year-old kid’s rare enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it looks like we have a volunteer to go first,” he smiled with relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned my back slightly to face that short guy’s voice from the last row. His chest was out with pride, looking like he was about to bust out some soprano notes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name is Syo Lai Qixiang!” (and apparently he felt the need to project his voice in an enclosed classroom), “I love sports—oh and I’ve a black belt in karate by the way! And fashion magazines! And playing the violin! In my two years here, I will enjoy my time to the fullest and leave a legacy that everyone will remember!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's... very ambitious, Syo! It’s very wonderful to have dreams,” Mr Kotobuki looked like a proud mom, almost tearing up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Another round of bullets hits my skin</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, fire away 'cause today, I won't let the shame sink in</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only the Induction Day of his Dragonboat CCA, and Syo was already getting yelled at by their harsh (and sometimes vulgar) seniors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Firing rounds and rounds of physical training towards the J1s, he had no choice but to just get up on his feet. Even if his body was trying to murder him. He wasn’t gonna let anyone doubt his capability.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We are bursting through the barricades and</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reaching for the sun (we are warriors)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr Hyuga Ryuya, the teacher-in-charge of this CCA, always sat nearby, keeping watch over Syo’s physical health. As the PE HOD, he already knew of this boy’s heart condition since day one. When he saw the boy’s name among the list of accepted J1s, he decided to talk with him privately, hoping to dissuade him from joining the team and thus further aggravating his condition. Yet, the boy had managed to impress him with a speech, from the bottom of his heart, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> cemented his place in the team. Of course, on the condition that the boy does not overexert himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(And at the end of it all, the boy asked him for his autograph. To think he remembered his past career!) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any volunteers to help buy dinner?” the then-Captain hollered across the J1s, who were now mostly laying on the floor out of exhaustion. “If there’s no one I will arrow—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’LL HELP,” Syo sat up, screaming back at the senior. “UH—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah—Syo, right? Get some friends to help you bring the food!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need! I can carry them on my own!” He stood up, without much resistance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, extra strength training is it?” another senior teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wanna get stronger!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, that's what we've become </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaoru had to confirm that his ears weren't failing him. He was indeed catching notes and tunes of an unnecessarily familiar K-pop song, muffled by the door to his older brother’s room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some reason, the same song kept replaying, while at times only segments were replayed. When Syo came out of his room for dinner, his face was flushed, and sweat stains were visible on his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Xiang, later go and shower ah,” their dad softly chided as he scooped the usual chicken soup into his bowl. “Luckily your mom overseas you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” muttered Syo, who was bulldozing the rice into his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Syo, I didn’t know you started listening to K-pop,” commented Kaoru. “And slow down, or you’ll choke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I won't let them break me down to dust</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The impatient boy was now vigorously chomping down on his rice, swallowing before he could even speak. “Yeah, their choreos are damn cool. Was practicing it just now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Korean pop ah? The aunties always dance to it for their Zumba sessions,” added his dad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not Zumba, dad!” Rice grains flew out of Syo’s mouth. “I’m practicing to join Korzy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know that there's a place for us</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey bro, you dropped this—” Syo had picked up a photocard of someone from TWICE (if he didn’t recognise wrongly), and he tapped the guy in front of him, who turned around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahhhhh—! Yes, it’s mine, thanks bro!” he smiled with utmost relief, and Syo returned a delightful grin. It was only the first session of Korzy and things seemed to be going fantastic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For we are glorious</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” Syo asked, after sitting down on the floor beside him as they waited for their Korzy seniors to address them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The name’s Otoya! And you’re Syo, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—how’d you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah... everyone knows you as that shortest guy in school,” he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look out 'cause here I come</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though his Korzy seniors were much kinder than his Dragonboat ones, the girls in his club kept giggling whenever he tried to talk to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Arghhh—it’s not my fault I’m stuck at 161cm!” Syo complained, while they were trailing along behind the rest, heading for club dinner at the nearby mall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? But no one’s judging your height bro,” Otoya chuckled, “I think you’re reading the girls wrongly. They probably like you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—legit?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm marching on to the beat I drum</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over the next few weeks, as Syo plunged himself deep into the K-pop fandom (especially Stray Kids—have you seen their bombass choreos?!), he began doing dance covers for fun on his own. While he didn’t have a particularly strong interest in a certain group (like Otoya), he certainly was drawn towards songs with especially difficult choreos.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not scared to be seen</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, followers on his main Instagram account shot up exponentially right after he posted a series of dance covers. A lot of random schoolmates began sliding into his DMs. Every five minutes, he would keep checking the app to see how many new likes and comments he’d gotten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Xiang, put away your phone during dinner,” his dad tutted, before grabbing some steamed chicken slices to put on Syo’s plate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He then placed his phone face-down on the table, but he could not stop eyeing it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it Mobile Legends again?” teased Kaoru.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Noo, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> 2018,” Syo almost laughed. “It’s nothing much la.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I hope so,” Kaoru smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I make no apologies, this is me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>PSLE</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>An acronym for Primary School Leaving Examination. Taken by Primary 6 kids at the age of 12, this national exam determines which secondary school they can enroll into. Supposedly, a better PSLE score gets you into a better quality secondary school, therefore many parents tend to pressure their children into doing well.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Lai Qixiang</b><blockquote>
  <p>It was an inside joke among my friends in the Singapore chat group. But basically, ‘Lai Qixiang’ is Kurusu Syo’s kanji characters in the Chinese pronunciation. As someone who speaks Chinese, I thought it was a really cute name so it stuck with me. </p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>In this story, while Syo’s English name is, well, ‘Syo’, his surname/family name now becomes ‘Lai’, and the Chinese name is added behind as ‘Qixiang’—thus the full name becomes ‘Syo Lai Qixiang’. This naming structure is common for Singaporean Chinese names.</p>
</blockquote><blockquote>
  <p>FYI, Kurusu Kaoru would be ‘Lai Qixun’. (And his full name would be ‘Kaoru Lai Qixun’.)</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>arrow</b><blockquote>
  <p>This word can mean ‘sabotage’ in the local context.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>HOD</b><blockquote>
  <p>A local acronym for ‘Head of Department’.</p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Time of Our Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Friendship’s better than romance. Don’t @ me.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>Time of Our Life by DAY6</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>솔직히 말할게</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>많이 기다려 왔어</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>너도 그랬을 거라 믿어</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>오늘이 오길</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>매일같이 달력을 보면서</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be honest with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I waited a long time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I believe you have too</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Looking at the calendar every day</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For this day to come</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the—she wrote 3 pieces of foolscap paper for a card?!” Syo exclaimed, shedding the pink envelope away to reveal the contents once he had reached home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘To Lai Qixiang (lol):</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Ayyy congrats to the end of PW (and Promos and the J1 year!!) :D</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo now plopped himself down on his comfy bed, holding the letter to his chest as he began to slowly savour every word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So... wow, from our first meeting in orientation, we somehow ended up in the same class, same class com, same PW group, same class clique...’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AHHHHHHHHHHHH—!!!! Don’t remember the orientation forfeit—!!!” he rolled over to his side, bringing his knees to his chest, fingers almost crumpling the paper. “WHY WOULD YOU REMEMBER THAT—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’ve lost count of the amount of times people came up to me to ask about my opinion of you—“the guy who’s in the Top 10 Handsome Guys list in the school’s confession page” (frankly I think they should’ve just taken the initiative to talk to you).’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, that list...” He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of it. Well—everyone said it was stupid—even if it was his guilty pleasure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Okay, gonna be honest with you Syo. You were really annoying in the first half of J1. It was as if the whole world was created just to serve you. Well, maybe not THAT bad, but still.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn, Jae, you’re starting with that, huh?” He smiled instinctively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You kept taking your own sweet time for lessons (even openly smuggling mcdonalds’ breakfast in sometimes), you kept shouting in the corridors to your friends (especially Otoya), and the worst sin of all—you kept stealing my food! Especially when you saw that my food was better than yours.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, but you didn’t mind in the end anyway—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Well—honestly, maybe that’s my karma because I kept doing that to my secondary school friends...’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘But, anyway, aside from some of your oddly conservative views (like, what’s wrong with guys being cute and your weird obsession with being ‘manly’?)’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He frowned a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m starting to think that, maybe your inflated sense of self-importance is a side effect of your ‘facade’? Like, you’re lowkey being a ‘bad boy’ because you think everyone likes ‘bad boys’?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, is this also what people think of me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Essentially, I just find you kinda different when I talk to you in private and when I see you vibing around with others.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duh, there’s a reason for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I know you’re genuinely a hyperactive person (in b4 the constant barrage of Mr Hyuga propaganda), but sometimes I feel like you’re trying too hard to get people to like you.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just trying to get along with everyone...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘But I do appreciate your loud friendliness and hype energy.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat up, all of a sudden.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Especially during PW (the second semester) and our class service-learning project, somehow, the group/class dynamics improves drastically when you’re around. I really admire how you can hype literally anyone up (or even sound confident in front of many people) because, well, no one likes a dead class/group.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Kinda glad that you’re the class chair (and not me) because I much prefer admin work. But yeah you gotta stop doing shit last minute man, I’m pretty sure our class is infamous among the chers for constantly submitting class effort stuff last minute.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I remember like, in August, we were forced by Mr Mikaze to change PW topics because our topic is too common. Man the entire group was just... dead and super done with PW.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, and you cried because all your effort went down the drain,” he dropped onto his bed again, hugging his bolster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And with the final WR deadline only four months away, it just seemed too impossible to churn out quality work.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘BUT. You didn’t give up. You were the first to stand, and say, “Guys, we can just use the National Day long holiday and just chiong the first two chapters”, and galvanised the entire group into picking ourselves up.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank god PW’s over,” he let out a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And not gonna lie, you were pretty amazing during OP—your energy was infectious; everyone really enjoyed listening to you bullshit about our totally functional app.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that was kinda fun actually. I felt like a legit YouTuber.”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘But yeah, I can tell that you’re really hardworking and dedicated if you want to. Especially in the stuff that you have passion in. Like, Dragonboat competitions, Korzy performances, and your admirable attempt at starting a Mr Hyuga fan club.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, I tried my best okay—”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Everyone can tell that you’re really bonded with your Dragonboat and Korzy mates (especially Otoya, y’all two are the best brotp man). I’ve lost count of how many birthday celebrations you helped to plan. I don’t know how you have enough social battery to keep up with that many friends, but I think you’re pretty cool for being able to do that.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘If there’s one thing I found problematic about you as a friend, it’s probably that period of time where you kept going on dates with many different girls. Seriously. Sometimes I feel like I should’ve stopped you from making stupid decisions, but at that point in time I was still angry with you for not doing your PW shit so I couldn’t be bothered.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was... fun while it lasted, at least.”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And sometimes—you can be insensitive towards others. Like that one time, you just told Natsuki to ‘get over’ his grades?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause, I mean, how else is one supposed to crawl back up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I get where you’re coming from, but you should’ve at least tried to understand his emotions first.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as his mind traced back to that specific moment I mentioned, he hugged his bolster a little more tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Not gonna lie, I’m pretty amazed that we actually made it this far into our friendship. People usually say PW breaks friendships. But we made it through, somehow. I guess we both just like getting on each other’s nerves.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckled softly. “Yeah, seeing you angry is always fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘It’s never peaceful with you around. But at least you’ve made my JC life more entertaining.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess one clown is never enough, heh. Oh shit that was a good one. I’ll use that on her next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re like an annoying little brother that I never had.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat up again. And he re-read that sentence, three more times, just to make sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘So, thanks for the memories my dude!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Here’s to another year of dying in JC,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jae’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘P.S. Hope you’ll stop sleeping in lectures next year lol’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Below that, it was a small doodle of the two of us.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>솔직히 나에게도</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>지금 이 순간은</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>꿈만 같아 너와 함께라</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>오늘을 위해</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>꽤 많은 걸 준비해 봤어</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Honestly, even to me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This moment right now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Feels like a dream because I’m with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For this day</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I prepared many things</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just another usual train ride home, after the last day of school before our December holidays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I actually found him cute, like, what the fuck,” I couldn’t resist laughing, scrolling past my previous Whatsapp conversations with that PW dude. “Thank god PW is over, I don’t have to keep talking to him anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Oh, yeah. I </span><em><span>actually </span></em><span>remember you</span> <span>asking my help on how to chase him,” Syo looked at me, still slightly bewildered. “After you told me I was the ‘least certified’ person to ask for dating advice...”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well—” I looked at the moving landscape outside the train window, “I figured it was a fair trade, since you asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> for dating advice first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe that’s why it failed; you asked the wrong guy?” He looked genuinely concerned for me—and I was about to burst out laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad it failed, actually. We can’t even hold a proper convo together without me hardcarrying it. I must’ve been fuckin’ blind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why’d you like him in the first place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked down at the phone in my hand. “Because he was there for me when you weren’t there for PW, bro. He was... really nice when he comforted me. And then shit escalated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>아름다운 청춘의 한 장</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A page of our beautiful youth</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not gonna lie, I lowkey feel bad on my side too. It was</span>
  <em>
    <span> so</span>
  </em>
  <span> clear that he wasn’t interested in me. But I kept chasing and bothering him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, to be honest ah, at some point you were a bit scary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I inhaled, “Yup. I should just stay away from romance, huh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>함께 써내려 가자</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s write it together</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, the orange rays of the sunset, filtering through the gaps between people standing in front of us—illuminated the entire train carriage with a soft warm glow. The sun stood above the low-rise buildings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what? I’m going back to my 2D guys. Fuck this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, good idea Jae. I’m going back to my idols too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just stay single together forever. Who needs romance in their life, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah there—that’s a bit—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do we do so many stupid things for love?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did I think there was still hope? I knew guys couldn’t be trusted, but I still went for it anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> right </span>
  </em>
  <span>here,” he looked understandably offended when I turned my sight towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and?” I fought back an urge to laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyah, I just don’t think you should be stereotyping guys like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neither should </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>be stereotyping girls as weak people who need men.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? I got say that meh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I tapped on our Whatsapp chat, scrolling past several months, searching for that one specific incriminating piece of evidence to shove it in his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933): ‘they actly love it when i say i’ll protect them’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘ok syo then why do I never see you going on second dates with them’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘bc got exams?? duh??’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘oh gee, imagine love, stopped by the very forces of academics!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I meant what I said,” Syo frowned at me, folding his arms, “A guy </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> protect a girl. Maybe it’s just you who overthink too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” I put down my phone, “that’s kinda sweet but the way you say it makes me want to punch your face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh—” he scratched the back of his head, “Yeah you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>need a break from romance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>너와의 추억들로</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>가득 채울래</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wanna fill it up</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With memories with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that point, the shuffles of commuters’ feet, the numerous train station announcements, and the rumbles of the doors opening and closing had all melted into one large mess of white noise. Luckily, after a quick check of the LED indicators near the top of the carriage, we were still a few stops away from alighting. Thank god we weren’t going to miss our stop again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, I’m just glad I can just—be myself again,” Syo smiled, after closing his Instagram feed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I agree. If they ever saw what you’re really like, I don’t think they’d even think of dating you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oiii, you wanna fight bro?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get on my level bro—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Already there at the lowest level.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I playfully elbowed him in the waist, prompting some giggles from him. I saw some heads turning towards our little discord in the public transport, but who cares if we’re being public nuisances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>아무 걱정도 하지는 마</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t worry about anything</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“aAAah—haha, ha—I almost fell—” My hands were trembling from gripping onto the safety railing, not from the cold. Why did I ever want to try ice skating again?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Due to some person’s genius suggestion, we decided to go to the rink at 10 in the morning. So for about the first half an hour or so we had the entire rink to ourselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, I thought you said it’s your fourth time here,” Syo was in front of me, figuring out the fancy physics behind ice skating. As soon as he finished that sentence, his hands were already off the railing, legs inching forward, haphazardly, yet still maintaining balance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s because you’re small, so you’re more aerodynamic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, it’s too early in the morning for short jokes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who said it was a joke? It’s a scientific fact,” I was biting my lower lips, smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, got research or not?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need research also can see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His fiendish fingers instantly reached for my ticklish sides as a declaration of war, and for the first time ever I felt the horror of not being able to move my legs freely. “LAI QIXIANG—ahHHHhh”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>나에게 다 맡겨 봐</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Trust it all to me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyoh—you hold on to the thing and you still fall?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I thought I saw my life flashing before my eyes. Luckily, his arm was scooping my waist now, with gravity threatening to drag me down to ice. I took in a breath of fresh, cold air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>지금 이 순간이</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So this moment right now</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I thought you were gonna make that ‘falling for you’ pick up line,” I said, and he blinked at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SHIT—I missed it!!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>다시 넘겨볼 수 있는</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can become a page</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fuckin’ Naruto-running on the ice,” I used one hand to film Syo’s questionable act on Insta-story, zooming in as he went, wheezing in the background. “He’s been doing this for three rounds, somebody fuckin’ send help—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he passed by me again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“JAEEEEEEEE are you having fun?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO,” I shouted back at him, and he backtracked (I didn’t know you could actually backtrack on ice skates) towards me, looking nothing short of smugness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held out a hand. “First step, off the railing,” he said, as if it was nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Putting away my phone, I reached for his hand, hesitating, when he locked my hand into his and cried, “BUCKLE UP BOIS WE’RE HEADING STRAIGHT INTO THE EXPRESSWAY——”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>한 페이지가 될 수 있게</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That we can read back again</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WAIT NOT SO FAST—AAAAAAAAaaaa—okay this—this is—okay speed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is our page</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Our page</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Syo as the pivot beside me, somehow, for some reason, my legs moved with unthinkable ease, as if I was gliding on pure air. Never mind that we’re miles away from the safety railing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, let’s go faster!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, you not scared ah?” he giggled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“UH, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> not let go,” I warned, squeezing his hand. “Apologies in advance for your fingers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“JAEEEE there’s a person attached to this hand!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>솔직히 나보다도</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>네가 몇 배는 더</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>힘들었을 거라고 믿어</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>오늘을 위해</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>그저 견뎌줘서 고마워</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Honestly, I know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You struggled way more than me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you for enduring</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For this day</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NOOO—LAI QIXIANG!!! Don’t put the raw and cooked tongs together!!!!” I almost screamed at him, grabbing his hand in time to halt the bacteria’s invasion onto our cooked meat. Syo looked at me, shocked, but smiling sheepishly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit—I didn’t know—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I don’t come back to school next year, guess whose fault is it,” I chided, putting those two tongs in separate containers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then we don’t need to worry about ‘A’s,” he grinned, “It was my plan all along!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s... actually a legit good plan,” and both of us instinctively high-fived, as we continued flipping the half-cooked pieces of meat. I was already starting to salivate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, Korean barbeque, the perfect meal to celebrate the end of exams. The meat, sizzling on the grill between us, never looked so juicy and mouth-watering!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Want you to</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on out and have fun</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We ended our day at someplace where Syo “was dying to show me ‘cause we live nearby”—true enough, the two-person swing was approximately equidistant from our houses, smack right in the middle of the pathway I’d had to take to get to his house. (I’m starting to wonder if this was some grandmaster’s plan out there.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, this place feels like a secret hideout,” I laughed, rocking back and forth on the swing as the earth spun below me. “Where’d you find this place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Jae, it’s literally right beside a jogging path!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Contrary to popular belief, I actually have zero brain cells, so yeah,” I slowed down my oscillation a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ ‘Cause you keep hitting your head onto low ceilings in the bus,” he added with a snicker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least I can reach the top shelf in the supermarket.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snorted loudly, as usual, “Okay lor, bet you need someone to carry the rice right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s fine, I can just break my arms then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo suddenly spit out waves of laughter, to which I looked at him with a frown, in utter confusion. He was kicking the sand under his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lai Qixiang! You think my arm breaking is a joke is it?!” I couldn’t believe I was smiling at this clown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Want us to</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have the time of our life</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-No, of course, not!” he was squeezing in syllables between each chortle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you lah,” now my stomach hurt from laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the nearby playground, children squealed in joy, climbing the playgrounds, slipping down slides, chasing each other. Soon, the sky was a dark azure shade, with bright orange light spilling in from behind the trees. All the lamp posts lit up instantly, as if a merry-go-round was suddenly switched back on, illuminating the neighbourhood park. Our laughters began to blend with the children’s, as we jumped from one topic to another, feeling the high of December holidays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
</p><p>
  <span>nothing</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>could ever</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>ruin this moment.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>chiong</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p> A Singlish word that means ‘to rush to do something’. Has Hokkien origins. </p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Summer love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"What could possibly go wrong?"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>ACT 2 - Pink Poui</b>
</h1><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Its pink trumpets bloom during a dry spell, usually in April and August.” </em>
</p>
<h2>
  <b>Summer love (夏恋慕) by Harutya / KOBASOLO</b>
</h2><p>
  <em> 君が好きって分かっちゃうな </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 水色に溶けた空 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 落ち着かない僕を 知られたくない </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 少し後ろを歩く  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t tell if I fell in love with you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Looking up at the sky, in melting summer blue </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I don’t want you to know how fast my heart is beating </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Walking just a little behind you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Last but not least—our much anticipated dancers, Korzy!”</p><p> </p><p>Cecil and I had already <em> choped </em>the front row seats in the atrium, eagerly tapping our fingers for the ultimate meal of the day. We’re definitely screaming for Syo and Otoya!!</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh my god, Syo’s actually sliding down the stairs’ railing to the atrium— </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Of course, they were the first to dive into the performance space, followed by a bunch of other talented dancers. They shuffled into position, and—</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Hey boy </em> — <em> Look, I’m gonna make this simple for you </em></p><p>
  <em> You got two choices...’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“YES! OR!! YES!!!” I was already frantically fanchanting at this point, more than adequately hyped up for their performance. My eyes subconsciously fell onto Syo; his loose pink sweater and baggy pants jumping in sync to his clean and sleek moves. The collective shine of their entire squad was enough to make the sun unemployed. <em> And is that a flower crown? Holy shit. He looks so cute in that! </em> (I think Cecil was already dizzy from me shaking him.)</p><p> </p><p>A couple more songs played, ranging from hardhitting hip-hops to classy, elegant vibes to cutesy, bubblegum bops. His flower crown kept flying off, but he almost always immediately swiped it back before anyone could notice. Or Otoya would grab it for him. (Especially noticeable during <em> Not Today. </em>)</p><p> </p><p>The atmosphere was crazy; a cauldron of horny screaming and cheers. Enough to reinforce the unhealthy stereotype of overly-enthusiastic idol stans. One would expect nothing less from our Cool Kids™ club. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I still can’t believe I’m actually friends with this guy. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> まだ夏の匂いが </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 潤んだ瞳を 歪めているんだ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 君はふわり </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 届きそうで届かないけれど </em>
</p><p><em> Still, I can feel the summer scent </em>—</p><p>
  <em> That distort my teary eyes </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’re just like a fluff </em>
</p><p><em> That I can almost reach </em> — <em> but I can’t, after all </em></p><p> </p><p>“JAE! STOP RIGHT THERE! DON’T MOVE.”</p><p> </p><p>I slipped one earpiece out, turning around, only seeing his sweat-filled face and usual cheeky grin, still gasping for air. He looked like he hadn’t left his Korzy performance mode. I was even more surprised that his pink flower crown <em> still </em> hadn’t fallen off his head. </p><p> </p><p>His voice, a dribbling mess, when he tried to blame the hoards of people rushing to take pictures with him. He’d finally escaped from the gargling crowds, before realising I was just about to leave the school’s main gate.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ゆらりゆらり揺れる水面に </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Waving, swaying, wavering on the water </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I was—uh,” he touched the back of his neck, (which he did every time he was nervous), the other hand clearly hiding something behind. “I know Council is delivering them, but uh—I just want to give them to you—personally. What kind of coward hides behind anonymity, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Today’s date—14 February. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 僕は君の隣で良いの </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey, is it okay if I’m by your side? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>My chest—seemed to grow tight, my nerves—high alert. Even if—I had already been spoilered by his master-of-disguise facial expressions and careless choice of words a few days ago, it seemed to hit differently when I’m forced to say my answer out loud.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> きらり光るその眼差しで </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In your eyes, all I can see is a ray of light </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He finally drew open an invisible curtain for his packet of chocolates, meticulously decorated with a ribbon, accompanied by a card with my name calligraphy-written on the cover. (Didn’t know he could do calligraphy-style words.) With shaking, cold fingers, I received the gift, but in the heat of the moment my fingers fumbled—</p><p> </p><p>Ah, he caught it. Then inserted it into my hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh—” he began, initially awkward to look in my direction, but he pursed his lips, squared his shoulders and challenged my gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“...Yeah?” I felt really bad, but I didn’t want to ruin his moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I like you. I-In the romantic way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I, uh...I kinda know...?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 夏色に心は踊る  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> My summer-coloured heart dances with delight </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You do?” </p><p> </p><p>He looked—might I say, 100%, completely—dumbfounded. Like a child who’d just been given his first ever surprise birthday party, with an added bonus of being graced by his Mr Hyuga.</p><p> </p><p>FUCK. </p><p> </p><p>“Please give me some time to think,” the only stopping my tears was an ultra-thin layer of consideration for his feelings. “I... I really appreciate your effort. Bu—uh, at the same time, I just need to think through this properly and I promise I’ll give you my honest answer.” I just hoped I didn’t break the chocolate by how tightly my fingers are gripping it right now.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 零れそうな恋が染まる </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m overcome with this spilling love </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luckily, or unluckily, his smile didn’t fade. “Then I’ll look forward to your answer!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sure,” I quickly said.</p><p> </p><p>“I gotta go take more pics and then debrief and pack up. Wanna wait for me then we go home together?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm, I... today, not free, meeting my friends for lunch. Sorry...” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh—then, see you online, Jae!” </p><p> </p><p>“Mm, yeah, okay.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 君に好きって言えないな </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 奇跡は滲んで まだ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 君のことを 思い出にしたくない </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 青く夏が暮れていく </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can’t tell you I’m in love with you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And again, all the sights begin to blur </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I don’t want you to just be in my old memory </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Feeling our unripe summer starting to end </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Syo, congra—”</p><p> </p><p>Before Cecil could jump onto the landmine that was Syo’s feelings, Otoya grabbed his arm and pulled him into safety. “Cecil! Wait! Didn’t he tell you yesterday?” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course!” Cecil continued smiling, and Otoya already knew that he didn’t know. “Wait, she rejected him? I thought...”</p><p> </p><p>Syo was already slumped down onto their study table at the atrium. With ears still plugged in to music, he buried his face into the table. No loud greetings this time.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hello Jae!” Cecil spotted me as I strolled into the atrium. As soon as I saw that iconic pink sweater of Syo’s, I smiled (as a flight-or-fight response) and with my hand barely resembling a wave, I quickly escaped to another quiet part of the school.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, are they avoiding each other again?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> まだあの鈴の音が </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 浮かんだ 僕を揺らしているんだ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 君が笑う </em>
</p><p>
  <em> それだけで良かったはずなのに </em>
</p><p><em> Still, I can hear the sound of that bell </em>—</p><p>
  <em> It’s floating, it’s shaking me </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I should’ve been glad just to see your smile </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I found myself at the nearby swing again, unable to contain my turbulent thoughts at home. The evening air was cool and crisp.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ポタリポタリ零る夏の日 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dripping, dropping, burning up, the summer light </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I heard the clinks of the chains of the swing beside me. Turning around, I saw—</p><p> </p><p>“Jae, fancy meeting you here,” said Syo, staring into the distance, in the swing beside me.</p><p> </p><p>“Our houses are literally within a 10-minute walk from here.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 僕は君に恋していいの </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey, is it okay if I fall in love with you? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Not gonna lie, more than once have I attempted to envision myself with him. Like, sure, he’s pretty good-looking (I won’t deny that), we got along well, I could see that it’d be a lot of fun. </p><p> </p><p>Then I thought of his family. And my family. I barely even knew his parents. I know he has a twin brother, but I’d never talked to him much before. And what if his parents despised my background, for being less-than-ideal? Don’t they live in a fancy condo? What if they wanted someone with a better background? Would they accuse me of marrying simply for money? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 闇に溶ける花火みたいに </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just like fireworks melting into the dark </em>
</p><p> </p><p>If we just remained as friends, I wouldn’t have to worry about all those.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 君を前に心が覗く </em>
</p><p>
  <em> My feelings are revealed right in front of you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Happiness in a romantic pursuit is entirely a matter of chance,” I said, referencing one of Charlotte’s iconic quotes. “There’s a reason why she’s my favourite <em> Pride &amp; Prejudice </em> character.”</p><p> </p><p>“But that was like, 19th-century England,” he argued. “They didn’t have much say in deciding their partners. So everything came down to luck. But we can choose.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I <em> choose </em> to not date.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jae—am I not good enough for you?”</p><p> </p><p>“No—Syo—you’re an amazing person. Genuinely.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then???” </p><p> </p><p>“I just—I just feel like I can’t invest enough energy into a relationship right now. I need to get my life together first. JC is tiring, bro. How are <em> you </em>not tired?” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ふらりふらり君に揺れる </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fluffy, fluffy, I’m wavering in you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Let me guess—” Kaoru had a bad feeling, “you’ve confessed to her already.”</p><p> </p><p>“UH—” Syo’s guilty face said it all. His twin brother could feel the same distress, so he disengaged himself from his headphones and closed his laptop monitor. They headed to their cozy little open-air balcony to talk. </p><p> </p><p>The sky outside, enveloped in heavy grey clouds, brought forth strong gusts of cold wind. In the distance, a group of black birds flew past in a v-formation.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you need to... perhaps, take a break, Syo. It’s already tiring enough to be a sports captain. And you know Dragonboating itself is extremely, physically tiring. On top of that, you have your Korzy dance practices every weekend. <em> And on top of that, </em> I’m really concerned about your academics.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know, but I really wanna try? You know, it’s like, when you finally found <em>the</em> <em>one?</em> That kinda... feeling. If I don’t take this chance then she might be gone forever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Syo, this isn’t something that you merely strike off your bucket list.”</p><p> </p><p>“I—I guess...?”</p><p> </p><p>Kaoru sighed, forcing a smile. “Okay. Suppose she accepts your confession. What’s going to happen, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“We—uh, go out on dates... and stuff...?”  </p><p> </p><p>“Have you asked about her plans after graduation? What are her personal ideals and values? What about her family?”</p><p> </p><p>“Bro, can’t we just think about it later?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are even <em> your </em>plans after graduation, Syo?”</p><p> </p><p>“...” He hadn’t even thought about it. He figured he didn’t need it anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“And do you even think you’ll have enough time for <em> her? </em> With <em> all </em>your heavy commitments.”</p><p> </p><p>‘Well—that...”</p><p> </p><p>The two brothers stared into the distance, watching the dark clouds swirl.</p><p> </p><p>“But, what does a Science student know about love? I suppose it’s up to you in the end. It’s <em> your </em> life, after all.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> もっと隣で </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just a little more, by your side </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Jae, need me to print anything?”</p><p> </p><p>I looked up from my assignment at our usual study table in school, and Syo was already sitting opposite me. The clock in the concourse read 08:03.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you came early today,” I said, drawing my AD/AS graph on the foolscap paper, “It’s almost like you want to indirectly ask me for a favour.”</p><p> </p><p>He replied after a few seconds, “No la—I just, well, woke up earlier today. Oh yeah—” he whipped out a familiar menu item from the cafe, then slid it to me, “I got your ham-and-egg croissant!”</p><p> </p><p>I finally pried my attention away from my essay. “Oh, thanks, I was... just about to go down and buy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, no need to thank!” he grinned like an idiot at me. </p><p> </p><p>A few minutes of silence passed as I continued writing more lines.</p><p> </p><p>“So...uh, Syo, aren’t you gonna ask me for some help or something...?”</p><p> </p><p>“Eh, why would I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, why<em> wouldn’t </em>you?”</p><p> </p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “Jae, is this how much our friendship’s worth to you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean—it’s just weird that in the span of a few days of... the confession... it’s just...” I forced a smile. “Syo, you’re just too obvious!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 茜色が波に染まる </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The waves are being dyed red </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Even Mr Kurosaki was terrified himself—he could not fire any of his usual snide comments towards Syo during lessons. There was no reason to, anyway, since the class clown actually did his essay outline for once. And it was the correct question too.</p><p> </p><p>Later, Syo even tried suggesting that we revise for our upcoming timed practices, as soon as we finished our usual fifteen-minute meal in the one-hour break. Cecil wore a dumbfounded smile on his face, but I only returned Syo an exasperated sigh.</p><p> </p><p>While Syo left the table to return everyone’s plates, Cecil, looking concerned as always, asked me why I looked like I’d just seen someone eat my last piece of chocolate eclairs. </p><p> </p><p>“Syo doesn’t give up,” I merely replied.</p><p> </p><p>“I have to agree with you! It looks like he hasn’t given up on his grades yet,” Cecil beamed at me, to which I only gave a small chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Give him a few weeks, and we’ll see how—”</p><p> </p><p>“What few weeks?” Syo returned to our table, sitting cross-legged on the canteen bench beside Cecil, with his favourite little milk carton in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“—that was fast,” I murmured.</p><p> </p><p>“Jae, what?”</p><p> </p><p>Cecil didn’t know whether to look at me or Syo.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, nothing, just wondering how long you can keep up this... positive change of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> そっと教えてよ 壊れないように優しく </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Won’t you tell me in your gentle and kind voice? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry Jae, I’ve got everything all planned out!” he continued sipping his milk without any care in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” I frowned at him. “Why are you agreeing with me?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 君と僕だけの </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This moment is only for you and me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Over the next few days, I was starting to get really weirded out by Syo’s behaviour.</p><p> </p><p>“Jae, I need help for Econs!” </p><p> </p><p>“I—Dude, I thought you said you’d rather consult Mr Kurosaki!”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me help you carry your bag!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, what’s next, you’re gonna lick my toes??”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh hey, I never knew iced tea tasted <em> this </em>good!”</p><p> </p><p>“You... you fucking hate iced tea, Lai Qixiang, we had a whole argument about this twelve moNTHS AGO—”</p><p> </p><p>At some point, I had to ask for god’s intervention. “Otoya, dude. You need to tell him to stop. It’s lowkey creepy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did, but...”</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t listen? <em> Of course </em>he didn’t listen. He’s got his head too far up in his ass. Every damn time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhhh calm down, okay, Jae?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” I seethed, “I’m not letting him make the same mistake as I did!”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 思い出がくるり泳ぐ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> くるり泳ぐ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Our memories have turned around and swum </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Turned around and swum... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>We sat at our usual swing in the park again, after Syo had asked me out to study at a nearby library. I decided, last-minute, to drag him to our current location. For the first time in my life, I was grateful that the swing was designed in such a way that we wouldn’t face each other when we talked.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ゆらりゆらり揺れる水面に </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Waving, swaying, wavering on the water </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Grudgingly, I accepted the Egg McMuffin that he bought for me as breakfast (since I had rushed out of my house earlier).</p><p> </p><p>“Sooo,” he began after I took a bite, “do you like today’s muffin?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 僕は君の隣で良いの </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey, is it okay if I’m by your side? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well it tastes like the usual muffin,” I swallowed a chunk of carbohydrates. “You see—the question you just asked—it’s not you.”</p><p> </p><p>Before he could even open his mouth, I ploughed into his train of thoughts. “Let me ask you. Are you changing your own habits for yourself? Or are you still trying to convince me to rethink and accept your confession? If it’s the former, then, good for you! If it’s the latter, then, let me say it again—” With the willpower of a thousand suns I endured the sting of my tears, “I will <em>not</em> date anyone at this point in time because I won’t be able to put in my 100% effort into the relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> きらり光るその眼差しで </em>
</p><p>
  <em> In your eyes, all I can see is a ray of light </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“So please, Syo, talk to me like a normal fucking person,” I finally had the courage to turn and look at his face, his blurry face. “Don’t make the same mistake as me. You know what happened when I tried to chase that PW guy, right? Even after he rejected me, I still kept trying to win his favour. I did <em> so </em> many petty shit. I was being a total fucking clown!”</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out. Kicking the sand beneath me, the air around suddenly seemed to be squeezing me. I stared into the distant green trees.</p><p> </p><p>“Jae, are you okay—”</p><p> </p><p>“No, obviously!” I exclaimed, then, “Wait—” I looked at Syo, “yeah, see, that’s more like you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait what—”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry dude. I’m just—I guess I’ve just had enough of doki-doki-cherry-blossom romances. That PW dude was just the final nail in the coffin.” </p><p> </p><p>He did not respond.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just tired, Syo. Everything in my life is falling apart. My grades, my family, my dreams, and sometimes I just wish—man, I don’t even know what I want from life anymore. Some days, I’m just glad I’m still alive.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 夏色に心は踊る </em>
</p><p>
  <em> My summer-coloured heart dances with delight </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Syo suddenly exclaimed in a frustrating cry, which caught me off-guard.</p><p> </p><p>He gripped the swing’s chains. “Shit. I can't help you. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>I snorted, “You don’t have to. You’re not a superhero.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well I—I want to be,” he suddenly stood up, “I want to protect you, Jae.”</p><p> </p><p>My shoes touched the sandy ground as I stood up to face his determined eyes. I had to end this early, before he got too emotionally invested in this one-sided love. I had to.</p><p> </p><p>“I just need someone to be there for me. Nothing more, and nothing less,” I said, blinking away tears, “You’re already doing that as a friend. And I appreciate that.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 泡の様に儚いような </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 零れそうな恋は染まる </em>
</p><p><em> As momentary as bubbles blow and pop </em>—</p><p>
  <em> I’m overcome with this spilling love </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>chope</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p> A Singlish word that means ‘to reserve something’. Usually it’s used when reserving seats in places that serve food.</p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Shunshuu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At some point in our lives, we’ve uttered some stupid shit that we’ll only regret years down the road.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>Shunshuu (春愁) by Mrs. GREEN APPLE</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>「早いものね」と心が囁いた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>言われてみれば 「うん、早かった。」</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A murmur in my heart says, "Wow today felt really short."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And if I think about it; yeah, that was pretty fast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AH—shit, Mr Kotobuki just messaged me,” Syo quickly swiped it away, sweeping things under the rug like he always did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a rare weekday where both of us, coincidentally, ended school early. Usually, I’d be stuck in school till 8 or sometimes even 10pm doing my art coursework. And he’d be busy at the national sports hub, training for his Dragonboat A-divs. Amidst our neck-breathing tight schedules, being able to hang out, even for a mere moment in time, was a blessing. And a stress-reliever too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Never do tutorial again ah, Lai Qixiang,” I gently teased him, though at this point it’s already a fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No la, it’s that stupid thing where you need to write your uni choices or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohhh. That. Dude it’s already two weeks since the deadline leh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scenery outside the MRT window began sliding backwards again as the announcement for the next station played. I stared out the window, feeling like a sack of potatoes at my seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Syo hadn’t even thought of which university course to enroll into. Judging by his pile of crumpled notes and papers, stuffed into his bag like pieces of incriminating evidence, I didn’t even know if he actually knew that tomorrow was our first mid-year paper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>また昨日と同じ今日を過ごした</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>そんなことばっか繰り返してた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Another day is done and it felt just like the last one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm pretty sure the last one felt like the one before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So? Which course you wanna go?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” replied Syo lazily, scrolling through his Instagram feed. “Oh, Otoya tagged me...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m... I don’t know either. Probably—hopefully—Yale-NUS Arts and Humanities.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t respond. I was about to shift my eyes right and look at his screen when he mentioned, “Eh I thought you wanted to go overseas for fine arts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait... how’d you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Last year you got say what.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>******</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>「憧れ」「理想」と たまに喧嘩をした</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>どうしても仲良くなれなかった</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>青さのカケラが行き交うが</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>やっぱり摘み取ることは出来なかった</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I sometimes throw a punch at my dreams and ideals.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For some reason we just don't seem to get along.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This little piece of blue always comes and goes,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But no matter what I can't seem to get my hands on it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was another unbearably hot day, like any other. I found him, with knees to his face, under the shade, at the grandstand. Otoya was already there, one arm around Syo’s shoulder. His glasses, on the floor beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I figured, Syo already had Otoya, I probably shouldn’t disturb them now. Though, I hadn’t seen him break down this hard ever since last year’s Block Test results...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned back towards the art room, but my heart felt restless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘yo dude are u okay’</span>
  </em>
  <span> — I began texting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About twenty minutes later —</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘ya im ok, dw abt me’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘uh,,,,, talk to me if you need anything, okay? did sth happen?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo is typing...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had been typing for a good five minutes. I doubted it was an essay. He was probably trying to be that manly macho man again, thinking that his problems weren’t worth anyone’s time—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘mr hyuga forcefully removed me from db adivs.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>人が大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>友達も大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>本当は大好きだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, it really sucks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All these people really suck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All my friends really suck too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, maybe they don't suck so much.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We met up at the swing area. (I wonder whose idea it was to install swings in school, but nonetheless, it’s a lovely idea.) Syo fitted himself onto the swing seat, and began rocking back and forth gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had never seen him so... meek, for a lack of better word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This time, it just feels very soul-sucking you know? Like, usually if I get angry, I’ll go to the gym and just work out. But this time. I literally feel... lifeless? If that’s the word?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get what you mean,” I stood near the swing, beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the canteen behind us, the cacophony of our schoolmates in the peak lunch hour seemed too apparent to my ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes... life just doesn’t work out,” I tried to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I KNOW,” he suddenly snapped, fingers in his hair. “IT’S JUST—I just—the entire time, I thought—I could change. Things.” He gestured frantically with his hands in front of him. “This—stupid illness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bit his lips, trying to swallow his tears. My palm reached gently for his head, softly ruffling his hair a little, hoping my headpat would calm him down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, he didn’t react to it as strongly as the previous time. He only blinked, and his tears began flowing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just—wanted my J2 year to be memorable, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could be standing on stage—saying my bros’ names, gold medal, all that—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly slid off his specs, and wiped his tears on the sleeve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would be willing to die if it means getting that last Gold medal—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I quickly recoiled my hand. “Syo—No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at me dead in the eye. “Ok, you say that, but clearly weeks ago you said you would kill yourself if you never get A for Art.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> say that—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>implied</span>
  </em>
  <span> it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shot up from the swing, frowning at me, ready to throw fists. How the fuck can he remember such minor details when he can’t even remember what was taught in lecture?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look—let’s just chill, okay? You’re being really irrational right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s more irrational is what you say doesn’t match your actions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gritting my teeth, I blurted, “What do you want me to do? Fucking kill myself because of Art? Can your mindset be any more narrow than this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. I’m sorry for having such a strong dedication for my interest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SYO—I swear to fucking god—That’s not what I—Okay, fuck you,” my vision of him started to blur. Turning my back towards him, I lifted my glasses and wiped my tears away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a second, nothing but darkness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My ears picked up a sudden torrent of rain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then a pair of strong arms wrapped me from behind—I opened my eyes; my entire body seemed to be shrinking— “Stop that, or people will think—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was uncomfortably close. “I’m sorry Jae. I didn’t realise—I didn’t mean it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>明日が晴れるなら それでいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If tomorrow's gonna be sunny, then I guess it's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’d pressed the button for milk before my brain could process it. The vending machine rumbled, and the carton fell into its open mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, shit, curse this habit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After I bent down to take the carton, I realised Cecil was behind me. “Dude. Can you pass this—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—to Syo, right? Don’t worry Jae, I got it,” chimed Cecil, “he told me to pass this to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking at the ham-and-egg croissant that Cecil just handed to me, I wondered, had Syo finished cooling down yet? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>明日が来(きた)るのなら それでいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If tomorrow's gonna come at all, then I guess it's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae,” Syo suddenly called my name in our break the next day as I was sipping my iced tea. I looked at him, wondering what his truce proposal was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to, uh, apologise,” he began, slowly cranking out each syllable, as if he was speaking a foreign language. But he was trying. “I was being a dumbass that day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had a couple of retorts loaded, but I didn’t want to ruin this for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know—and honestly, me too,” I said, staring at the people behind him. The canteen was as crowded as always. “I just suck at comforting people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What a coincidence,” he sipped his milk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah bro, you just make people laugh so they’ll forget all their problems.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did I just hear a genuine compliment from you?” he pretended to look surprised and smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And did I just hear a genuine attempt at apologising?” I chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, fuck you,” he almost spat out his milk, laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wake up first bro,” luckily I had no iced tea in my mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After we both stopped wheezing, he continued, “Hey you know, some J1s are really short?? I </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> found someone who’s shorter than me in Korzy!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I meeean—there are some really small J2s too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t exactly paying attention, until I saw his offended smile, and the fire rising in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>あなたが笑うなら なんでもいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And if you keep smiling, then I guess everything's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> not referring to anyone in particular,” my cheeks hurt yet again, from smiling too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay Jae, I’m not the one who keep hitting their head against the low ceiling in buses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>世界は変わりゆくけど それだけでいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everything around me keeps changing, but I guess that's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OIII Y’ALL BETTER DON’T DROP ME AH—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo, the Dragonboat captain, didn’t ask for this, but he found himself sitting atop his vice-captain’s tough shoulders—much like a child being carried on a father’s shoulders. Though his legs were being gripped in place by his vice-captain hands, it wasn’t helping that the latter’s tall physique was actually triggering his acrophobia. Still, he wasn’t about to let his distress be obvious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire team gathered together at the atrium’s pathway, taking their stepdown photo in the middle of the common lunch crowd—effectively blocking other students from walking along the pathway until they had finished taking several shots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Honestly, he was not prepared to step down and face his teammates—he wasn’t sure if they still saw him as a Captain, after he’d been ‘exiled’ for the sake of his health. Still, he was glad to see that they appreciated all the dinners he’d helped to carry for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After several more hearty farewell slaps on his back, Syo quickly darted up the atrium stairs to the concourse. He was greeted by his impatient Korzy mates, all eagerly waiting for their vice-president’s ‘grand entrance’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otoya was, of course, already there with a bright smile and the two boys immediately dived into the classic bro-handshake-to-hug. The club then began swarming their beloved Exco members and showering them with all of their stepdown gifts. One by one, with every gift, Syo’s heart danced in delight—his hands were </span>
  <em>
    <span>itching </span>
  </em>
  <span>to fill his display shelves (he’d need to rearrange his Mr Hyuga merch) with all these goodies—until Nagi, that one</span>
  <em>
    <span> very </span>
  </em>
  <span>annoying junior, handed him a suspicious-looking roll of black cloth in an awfully plain kraft paper bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good luck for A’s~” Nagi chirped in his usual cutesy voice. His grin was wide, and Syo swore he could feel malicious intent radiating from that face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo raised an eyebrow. Nagi was still grinning at him. The taller boy reached into the bag’s contents and unfurled the rolled up cloth, revealing a black cropped hoodie with only a white plain text of “I’m sexy” on the front. He smiled at the words, but retracted his display of pleasure when he realised it was a goddamn cropped hoodie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if this junior actually hated him or not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only for my favourite senior in the entire world!” Nagi clasped his small hands together, “I went ALL the way to Bugis Street and hunted this down </span>
  <em>
    <span>specially</span>
  </em>
  <span> for our vice-pres! I always knew a crop top was always something you wanted~”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Haha... what a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful </span>
  </em>
  <span>gift! I’ll be sure to treasure this,” Syo smiled through his painful gritted teeth, wishing he could end that evil genius’s existence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just kidding~” His junior giggled, winking at him. He fished out a decent-looking card from his pockets and gave it to Syo. “I can’t believe I’d actually write a card for you, but here we are!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well—at least Nagi wasn’t as bad as a certain other junior he wished he could forget about. And the hoodie’s texture was surprisingly soft on the inside. How could such a piece of clothing be found in Bugis Street?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the end of the day, Syo was struggling to carry all of his boards of messages, cards, letters, and even plushies! I had to put my stuff on the floor to fit all of his gifts on the surface of the study table. We both stood, looking at the mountain we just created.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned to him, and I swore I saw him blinking some tears away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, guess what Otoya got me,” he turned to me, sounding like he was babbling about Mr Hyuga’s stunning six-pack abs. I threw a smile at him as he held up his wrist with great vigour, grinning with maximum contentment. It was a handmade bracelet with pastel-coloured beads, and a cute little angel-wing charm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“DUDE,” I gasped, “he can make that?!” I leaned in closer, gently touching the beads and the wing, admiring the meticulous craftsmanship. “Oh my god it’s so cute??”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s NOT cute,” Syo insisted, and I pulled away from him. “It’s a symbol of our unbreakable brotherhood!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So... like, you two have matching bracelets...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO—I mean—can you DON’T say it like that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh then how would you like me to say it? I take requests,” I smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave me the middle finger, with the bracelet. Noted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening his school bag wide, he carefully stuffed the smaller gifts into it. After a while, I had never, in my entire life, seen his bag so fat that it was about to explode at the seams.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oiii help me carry leh—” he was hugging a jumbo-sized Gudetama plushie in front of him, held in its original gift bag, while other smaller gifts that couldn’t fit into his sack were dangling from his arms, very much like Christmas tree ornaments. A walking Christmas tree.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After laughing for a good few minutes, I finally relieved him of some smaller gift bags. Staring at me with a murderous glint in his eyes, I could only thank god that his hands weren’t free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>「ありがたいね」と心が囁いた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>言われずとも ちゃんと解っていた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A murmur in my heart says, "You know I'm really grateful."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even if it hadn't said a thing, I already knew that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 09:51: ‘oiiii jaeeee come to sch la’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 10:22: ‘u prob just woke up’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me, 10:31: ‘dude i don't wanna go to school tdy’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘U SAID THERES ONLY 133 DAYS LEFT TO EXAMS’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘wtf dude since when were you so on about studying’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘k since when did U become a slacker??’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘well you see all my hopes and dreams died last year’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The glaring afternoon sunlight washed the entire living room with natural lighting. Even though we were indoors, with my electric fan whirring at top speed and blasting gusts of wind at our faces, Syo was still frantically fanning himself with a brochure that I was about to throw away. Such a shame that my family couldn’t afford air-conditioning, right? I had gotten used to the heat anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, just... take out your sweater,” I almost laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I—I can’t, it matches my jeans!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you even wearing long pants to a friend’s house?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, I have standards okay,” he gestured from his shoulders to his toes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh fine,” I rolled my eyes, “don’t accuse me in court if you die of heat stroke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of us were seated, cross-legged on the floor, flanking the low coffee table. Two mugs, filled with ice-cold water, were already starting to wet the surface of the table. Taking the TV remote, the age-old device in front of us clicked to life. After switching it to AV mode, I reached out for the ‘Open Disc’ button of my DVD player, situated right below my TV.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned back to face Syo, and he was already taking out the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince of Fighting</span>
  </em>
  <span> DVDs, which were kept snugly in a sturdy-looking box (on top of the totebag that he carried it in). Huh, it was actually kinda cute seeing him so delicate with objects for the first time. I hadn’t noticed, but his fingers were unusually slender for a bulky (but small) guy like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So which season are we watching?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All three of them, duh!” He was gently prying Season 1’s cover open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unpopular opinion, but the last season was definitely the best.” As soon as I said this, Syo’s hand with the disc stopped midway to the DVD player, and he stared at me like I had just murdered his family. I smiled. “I remember there wasn’t as much action as the first one, but</span>
  <em>
    <span> damn,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the politics and family drama got me crying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi Jae, wanna hear a joke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your taste in shows,” he smirked at me, finally putting Season 1’s disc into the player, which swallowed it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well played, Syo,” I wasn’t about to let him go. “Wanna hear another joke?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat, “if this is about my taste in women—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god not this shit again—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” he leaned his elbow on the coffee table, “why would you keep watching that trashy idol show? You even said yourself that you need to turn off your brain to watch it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, one man’s trash is another man’s waifu! Or husbando,” I leaned on the table towards him, “and all the good shit is in the original games!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then just play the game la???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I WOULD if there were actually English translations!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh, pfft, just learn Japanese then,” he sipped the cold water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re insufferable,” I quickly hit the play button on the remote.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” he said after letting out a satisfied gasp, and I swore he was dropping an invisible mic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this why you had no friends before JC—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“SHHH—” he almost slammed the mug down, “IT’S STARTING—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>また昨日と同じ今日を過ごした</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>そんなことばっかり思ってた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Another day is done and it felt just like the last one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I always thought the last one felt like the one before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, are you okay,” asked Syo one day, during our night study dinner, “you’ve been staring at your food for five minutes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was only starting to recognise the steamed chicken rice in front of me. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I began to dig in with the plastic spoon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Outside the canteen (where we were sitting in) and in the parade square, several netball players were having their practice. The sky’s blue was almost fading into black. It was common for club activities to last till 8, or even 10pm, so even our school had a nightlife of its own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>「涙」や「笑い」も少なかったりした</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>実はそんなこともなかった</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Been trying to cut back on all the smiling and crying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, wait, I haven't been trying at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Do you ever regret coming to JC?” I blurted out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not like I had other choices anyway,” he replied without any hesitation, rice still in his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Makes sense. You’d need a clear life direction to choose a Poly course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must be nice to know where you wanna go, huh, Jae.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know what I’m doing,” I sipped my </span>
  <em>
    <span>teh peng</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thinking about my coursework and grades which were all falling apart, “I don’t think anyone knows whatever the hell they’re doing. You know, Syo, I thought you’d be the one with the clearest life direction.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why, is it because I might die soon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, I read somewhere that you only learn how to live when you decide how you wanna die.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m confirm not letting my heart kill me,” he grinned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>春が息吹く 桜の花も舞いはせず</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ただ陽に照らされていた</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel the breath of spring, and the petals are all dancing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But they were just being lit up by the sun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OH IT’S SYO AGAIN!!” the Dragonboat Vice-captain yelled out, his voice reverberating around the external walls of the shopping mall. Their entire team was huddled in a circle at the mall rooftop, entertaining themselves with games because they didn’t want to go home. The bright lamp posts stood against the dark, black sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For god knows how many times, the spinning plastic bottle had pointed to Syo. Already exhausted from being forced to scream inside trash bins or slutdropping in front of his teammates (curse his luck), he eventually picked ‘truth’. Unfortunately for him, his suffering was only just beginning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got one BURNING question,” asked another teammate, “do you fap to that girl you always hang out with?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone else immediately burst out laughing; Syo regretted ever revealing to them his feelings for me (as well as all the decisions he’d made in his life that led up to that very point in time).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyah c’mon la confirm she’s not the only one,” added another as he draped an arm around Syo’s neck, “right Qixiang?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wah, Captain got a lot of game eh? Can teach me or not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah lor you have so many girls to pick from but you pick the one who looks more like your older sister?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire time, he was just gulping down his strawberry latte milk tea as his teammates kept spilling more tea about him. When the irritating noise died down, he finally said, “I’d—” he took a breath, “I’d rather fap to porn than real life girls.” And he dared not say further so that he could maintain the team harmony.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, good taste,” someone shot Syo a totally understanding look. Everyone else followed suit; it was like herding a bunch of dicks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>今日が大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>昨日も大嫌いだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>明日が大好きだ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, it really sucks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Today just really sucks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And yesterday sucked too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow can't come any sooner.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hours melted into each other; it was already 02:51. As I stared at the soft orange glow from the fairy lights above, I laid, motionless, in bed, my fingers in autopilot mode scrolling through Reddit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few years ago, my mother had come to pick up her stuff one last time, before leaving without me. In all honesty, I should’ve picked up the little bread crumbs along the way that led to my parents’ crumbling house of marriage—when they finally stopped quarreling, it wasn’t that they had reconciled, as I had once thought. They were simply tired of one another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As I grew older, I began to hear more stories of my friends’ families breaking up. Or even stories of parents who were forced to stay together to be there for their children. For a while, I thought I wasn’t alone in this—until I realised I was looking for love somewhere else to fill the gaping void that my parents had left me in my childhood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wasn’t chasing after a person. I was only chasing after fragments that I wanted to see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>いつか いつか 見つけてくれるのなら</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe someday someone will finally find me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If there was one thing I was grateful for in my entire eighteen years of life, it had to be the good friends I’d made along the way. They’d taught me more than my parents ever did, and I was lucky to find them. We fought, we made up, and in the end I somehow grew to be a better person. Perhaps this would be the closest I could ever imagine myself to be with someone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>いつか いつか 大切に思えるなら</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe someday someone will think that I matter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I tapped on Syo’s name in my Whatsapp chats. Our last few messages, an hour ago, was simply us debating over whether fish had balls, triggered by a fond memory of a kindergarten excursion to Underwater World. Apparently we’d gone to the same kindergarten (no surprise since we lived nearby), but I’d just never seen him before. Until JC.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway—what did I want to type again?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My fingers hovered over the letters. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘i realised that nothing in life lasts forever. not even life itself.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later, he replied, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘u JUST realised tht???’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘sorry la, im not the one with so many death flags in my life.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then I added, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘shit, sry’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘r u ok jae’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘at this point, death would be much kinder than the existential dread’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I continued, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘always felt weird talking about death to you’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo is typing...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘o pls jae im a veteran here’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>あなたが生きてさえいれば なんでもいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And if that someone's out there, then I guess everything's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘ok syo, please, bestow on us your wonderful veteran advice’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sent me a link—a video titled </span>
  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EroOICwfD3g">
    <span>‘Ghana’s dancing pallbearers - BBC Africa’. </span>
  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, so that’s why we’re still friends.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>わたしが生きてるなら それでいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As long as I'm still taking in air, then I guess it's alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘tfw when you’re dead but you still want people to enjoy your funeral’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘ya jae u better do this for my funeral’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘i got you bro’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘u sure ah,,, if u dont im cmg bck from the dead to fite u’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With tears already in my eyes, I broke into small hushed laughter.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Maybe this is fine, after all. Maybe nothing matters in the end. But talking to you at this moment, it might as well have been the end of the world, and I wouldn’t have any regrets.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>それがいいや</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That'd be just fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>Poly</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>A shortened form of ‘Polytechnic’, which are post-secondary vocational schools. Typically, it is seen as an alternative to JC for students who already know which industry they are interested in joining, or for students who just want to avoid mugging for exams in JC.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Exco</b><blockquote>
  <p>Shortened form of 'executive committee'. In the local school context it refers to the group of leaders within a club. Typically consists of the President, Vice-President, Treasurer, Publicity Director, etc.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Stepdown</b><blockquote>
  <p>Refers to the seniors (final year students) stepping down from their official Exco positions in their clubs, mainly to prepare for their final national exams at the end of the year.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>teh peng</b><blockquote>
  <p>In the Hokkien dialect, it literally means ‘iced tea’. This drink is simply tea mixed with condensed milk (with ice added), which is usually sold in hawker centres.</p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 那些年 (Those Bygone Years)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“One minute I held the key<br/>Next the walls were closed on me<br/>And I discovered that my castles stand<br/>Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand”</p><p>
  <i> Viva La Vida by Coldplay </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>Those Bygone Years (那些年) by Hu Xia</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>又回到最初的起点</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>记忆中妳青涩的脸</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>我们终于来到了这一天</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We have returned once again to the start</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your youthful face is still in my memory</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We have finally arrived at this day</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once our principal declared the end of our graduation ceremony, all hell broke loose as hordes of J2s rushed out of the hall, down the stairs, into the atrium to consume the catered buffet. With several letters I’d written for my friends, I pushed my way through the crowd, hoping to spot them in the sea of people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, who cared about the ceremony and bullshit awards anyway? My hands were getting cold and clammy, wondering about Syo’s reaction when he would finally see my graduation gift for him. He would probably make some dumb joke about girls being too sentimental and all that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I had planned to ambush him the second our principal stepped off the stage (since he sat beside me), but he disappeared into thin air soon after. Damn it. Pretty sure he was in ‘high demand’, taking pictures with literally the entire cohort. Goddamn these pops kids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>[1933 w/ Mr Kotobuki] Syo (1933): ‘guys meet @ concourse to take class pic @ 11.30!!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I managed to catch a glimpse of his pink sweater during the class picture, but soon after that, he disappeared in a flash while hugging a big stack of letters. He may have been a slacker in lessons, but his dedication for his friends was no surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘syo where tf are u I’ll go get food first’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘I’ll be at concourse’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>桌垫下的老照片</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>无数回忆连结</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>今天男孩要赴女孩最后的约</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The old photograph under the table mat</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Links together numerous old memories</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Today the boy and girl will go on their final date</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’M. HERE,” he almost slammed his hand down onto the table where I was sitting, which caught me off-guard. By that time, I’d already finished my food, and I was just decomposing at the table while browsing through Reddit. The school was weirdly serene (compared to the chaos a while ago), save for a couple of hardworking students who stayed back to revise instead of going out to celebrate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked up, and his face was red with sweat all over; he was still trying to catch his breath. He plopped down onto the table bench, whisked out his full-volume water bottle and inhaled like half of that shit down his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, you just ran 2.4 is it?” I teased; he almost choked on the water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He screwed the lid shut after letting out a satisfied, cool gasp, stuffing the bottle back into his bag. “The post office should hire me to deliver their letters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, how many letters was that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhhhh. 53?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OH YEAH—I got one for you too—” he opened his bag and fished out a pink envelope that was sandwiched between pages of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hamlet</span>
  </em>
  <span> book, before handing it to me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, my name was calligraphy-written on the front. Flipping to the back, written on the flap was “happy graduation” in his distinct illegible handwriting. (No wonder his teachers have no choice but to tolerate his essays.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still—it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Syo’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> letter. One could not imagine such a tough, loud and typically unruly guy sitting down for hours on end, concentrating on writing something that requires a lot of conscientiousness and thoughtfulness. I’m not saying it’s cute, but I’m saying it’s cute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks bro,” I finally managed to say. “Oh, uhm, I got you something too. Almost forgot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I reached into my tote bag beside me and took out a small Gudetama-like sock plushie, handsewn by yours truly. (Natsuki had taught all the art students how to make them.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” I gave it to him, “I tried my best but—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-YOU??” Syo widened his eyes as he received the plushie boi, not sure whether in anger or excitement or both, “THIS?! How??! Even got the egg white too???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh—” my thoughts were thrown into disarray by embarrassment and pride. “I used my hands to make it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>duh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, don’t use my own line against me!” he spoke between laughter. “This is—this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> really well made.” He squeezed the sock Gudetama in his palm, scrutinising the seams and stuff. “You could sell this on Carousell for $20 or some shit, people confirm buy one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Technically I can jack up the price to like, a million dollars, since there’s only one of this in the entire world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew he was acting dumb—his recent essays proved that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pfft,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a monopoly! Lai Qixiang, you never listen in lecture again ah??”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, call me if you ever need a business partner,” he smirked, doing the </span>
  <span>🤙 </span>
  <span>sign. “Profits split 60-40.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well too bad,” I gazed into the distance at the trumpet flower tree behind him, “this Gudetama plushie is priceless.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The serenity of the surroundings returned again, as a gale of cool, refreshing wind enfolded us. My fingers brushed my bangs to the side. He was strangely quiet</span>
  <span>—why would he miss a chance to ricochet a retort?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, thought you’d write a letter,” he suddenly spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The parade square in the distance was empty, of course. Except for a few birds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, even if I did, you’ll just get bored of reading stuff you already know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but</span>
  <span>—we also re-read our lecture notes what,” he protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gripped his letter in my hand, staring at anything in the background except for his face. “I mean. Happy Graduation, yay, we’re still gonna see each other in the exam hall anyway,” I didn’t know why, but tears began to well up in my eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like we’re never gonna see each other again. We’ll still be friends even after we graduate. I mean, we have to—I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’ll still be here! Right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I finally looked at his face, but I couldn’t read his expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Man, and all this while, I couldn’t believe I thought I was more mature than him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 20:34: ‘jaeeeee have u read my letter yet’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘uhhh I’m getting to it’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘k hurry up its been HOURS since the ceremony!!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘chill dude I’m trying to find a good place to read it’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>又回到最初的起点</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>呆呆地站在镜子前</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We have returned once again to the start</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Standing blankly in front of the mirror</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once I was settled comfortably with my soft toys on my bed, I gingerly peeled the sticker that held the envelope together. The fairy lights above provided just sufficient lighting to read the words of his graduation letter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hey Jae, happy graduation day!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Two years—it was only two years, but it felt like forever.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I bet you weren’t expecting me to write a letter. Well, clearly, I’m someone who likes verbal expression, but I wasn’t going to let my mouth screw up my words.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re probably amazed that I can put my thoughts into coherent sentences. I’m amazed at myself too!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s so stupid,” I barely resisted a giggle. There were a lot of parts that were correction-taped over, which was surprising, since he literally only carried his pen (his “essentials”) to school and nothing else. Maybe he thought simply cancelling the words would be too messy to look at.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘These two years have been a ride. I think you know the mess I got myself into. Can’t say I wasn’t greedy. Thought I had the world in my hands.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>笨拙系上红色领带的结</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>将头发梳成大人模样</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>穿上一身帅气西装</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>等会儿見妳一定比想像美</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clumsily fastening the red tie's knot</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'll brush my hair into the style of an adult</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And wear a handsome-looking suit</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In a bit, when I meet you, I’m sure you’ll be more beautiful than my imagination</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Until... I realised the weight of the world was crushing me.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro can you STOP insisting that you can finish writing that part if you’re gonna not finish it again?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the day I had enough of Syo’s glaring lack of sense of accountability towards the PW group. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For god’s sake, our A is at stake!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I walked up to him during our group meeting; he looked zoned out, staring blankly at his laptop screen. His half-eaten curry puff laid on his table. “If you don’t let us tank your shit, you’re gonna drag the entire group down the drain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We all turned to look at the accused. Once again, he protested, “It’s fine la I can contribute! I don’t wanna be useless in the group.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Syo, listen to me.” Pulling my chair over, I sat down opposite him. He was avoiding my gaze. “You have A-divs training almost every day, right? And you have Korzy practices every weekend? Literally, EVERYONE can tell that you’re struggling to put in effort for PW. That’s completely fine! Because we’re willing to tank your parts and be more efficient in our WR! We can just wait for your A-div season to be over!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The classroom was strangely quiet, even with twenty-five people inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling like I’d just swallowed the world’s most bitter medicine, I stormed out of the classroom, straight into a toilet cubicle, hoping I could calm myself down as tears started forming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I wish I could say I was lying, but straight after you blew up, I was worried that people would start spilling tea about me making a girl cry. So the next day I bought you free Macs breakfast to appease you, so hopefully you won’t spill tea about me.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I should have known that my lack of conscience wasn't a match for your vehement sense of justice. Honestly, I know you spilled PW tea about me behind my back, and you’ve never admitted this to my face. But then again, if I were you, I wouldn’t admit such an embarrassing act either.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I know I wasn’t exactly the best PW mate at the start. I was busy dedicating my time for Dragonboat, Korzy, and, you know, going on dates.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, which girl is it this time?” I sighed, scrolling through Syo’s main Instagram stories of him and his date getting milk tea together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohhh~ do I sense tea?” Tomo inched closer to me at the study table, looking at my screen. “Ah, it’s that Syo in your class! Why, are you jealous~?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who would be jealous of a fucking irresponsible jerk?” I snapped, exiting the app. “Those girls deserve better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seem... oddly riled up about someone you claim you don’t care about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If my PW doesn’t get an A, I’m going to fucking kill him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘It legit took me a few broken hearts to learn that it actually takes a lot of courage for people to confess and ask their crush out on a date. And yet I squandered their feelings away just ‘cause I was scared of my time running out. Hate to admit it, but when it was my turn to be the ‘confessor’, I had never felt such a sharp pang of self-loathing ever since I was 12.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And you know what’s real funny? The entire time I thought I was chasing another girl—but as we kept talking about romance and dating advice and all that—I ended up finding out more about you. And... the rest is history.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And that’s one less secret with me to the grave.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>好想再回到那些年的时光</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>回到教室座位前后故意讨妳温柔的骂</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, how I wish we could return to those times</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Return to our seats in the classroom, deliberately trying to get you to gently scold me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“LAI QIXIANG—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wha—JAE?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, I’d missed the sign that read “Please Do Not Open Door” hung up outside the sick bay. Syo was now frantically fumbling for a piece of cloth to cover his bare upper half; one of the Red Cross dudes inside quickly screamed at me to close the door. It took me a good few seconds to process what was going on, and I shut the door, running away from my embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cicadas cried in the trees. The school field was wavering in the unforgiving heat wave. I heard the sound of footsteps; Syo was now sitting beside me at the shaded grandstand. Some classes were having PE in the nearby basketball courts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, what the fuck did you do now,” I looked at my friend with his bandaged knuckles, “You punched a wall or what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned back, against the concrete step of the grandstand, biting his lips as he winced in pain. “Doesn’t matter now. Mr Hyuga prolly hates me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—you punched him?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ughh no!” he almost screamed, “his brother was being a total fucking ass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah... Yamato?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His frown deepened at the mention of that J1’s name. “Of all fucking places, he HAD to come to SJ?! How the fuck did he even have enough brain cells to make it into JC?! Fuck,” He clenched his fists, even if it pained him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck happened between you two??” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, same secondary school, same volleyball CCA, he hated me first, I hated him back, fucking jerk. He think he DSA into volleyball, he so good ah?!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was about to spring up for a Round 2, but immediately aborted mission and winced. “I did just as much practice as those DSA shits, and I could’ve been standing on that podium!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What—why’d you even hate each—oh god I think I’m starting to get it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I DUNNO, we just didn’t vibe well????” He gritted his teeth. “Yeah Jae I know it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid but like—ughhhhhh—you think I can change CCAs?? I needed that 2 points!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude—for a man, you sound like you actually get periods,” I couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, can you DON’T remind me that I should’ve gone for that anger management course two years ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I don’t think I ever told you much about what I was like in secondary school. Well, people like to paint a good picture about themselves. I didn’t want to be seen again as an angsty asshole who picks fights out of nowhere, so I tried to ‘reset’ my social life and just tried to be as chill as I could to everyone in JC.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘But, as I realised much later, no matter how chill I tried to be, there will always be some assholes that I still wanna punch. Right in their balls. They don’t need to reproduce. (I know you’re gonna say ‘my height’s actually perfect for that’—this time, I won’t complain.)’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘... Still hate my height though.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>黑板上排列组合　妳舍得解开吗</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>谁与谁坐他又爱着她</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The combinations on the blackboard, are you willing to solve them?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Regardless of the seating, he will always love her</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“I realised,” I suddenly said one day, during our Mother Tongue tutorial, “I’ve been saying your Chinese name wrong the entire time. It’s actually </span><em><span>qī xiáng </span></em><span>(栖翔) and not</span><em><span> qǐ</span></em> <em><span>xiáng</span></em><span>.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span>“I don’t really care bro,” Syo replied, head already on the table in the first five minutes of lesson, “Actually—I prefer </span><em><span>qǐ</span></em> <em><span>xiáng.</span></em><span> ‘Cause it sounds like ‘起翔’, which means, uh—”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It means ‘to fly up’, I think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! That. Makes me sound like I’m some amazing superhero!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, your parents should’ve just named you that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If only they thought of this 18 years ago,” he groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘If you ask me, I think the best choice I ever made was to bother you during our first June holidays. It must’ve seemed really weird to you, especially after all that PW tea. But actually I just wanted to study with someone who looked like they had their shit together. (Kaoru said having study buddies would be useful.) And someone I didn’t feel awkward with.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>那些年错过的大雨</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The heavy rains we missed in those years</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop... staring at my food, Jae,” Syo hugged his brown McDonald’s paper bag closer to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then stop stealing my food in the canteen,” I demanded, suppressing my stomach’s growl in the morning, five minutes before we had to head for lessons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Friends steal each other’s food!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unless it’s yours, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He faked a sigh, then rummaged through the paper bag. “You’re lucky there was a deal today and I got an extra egg muffin.” He threw the ball of muffin at me, and I caught it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks dude, this is... the nicest thing you’ve ever done,” my face was locked in a smile. Or was it gritted teeth? I didn’t know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just eat breakfast bro?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well I uh,” I bit into the warm food, “I don’t have a habit of eating breakfast.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi I’m not running a charity here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then who ask you buy for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told you, there was a deal today, so I just got it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>那些年错过的爱情</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The young love we missed in those years</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, catch—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My mind was blurred in the uncomfortably warm weather. I didn’t realise the class clown had thrown something in my direction. I only felt a dull pain on my head, then heard the sound of a box dropping, and someone saying “oh shit”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>好想拥抱妳　拥抱错过的勇气</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really want to hug you, embrace my missed courage</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I reached down to take the box; it was strawberry-flavoured Pocky. I looked behind to the last row instinctively, and Syo was nodding at me to consume sustenance. I heard my stomach growl in agreement, even though our teacher could walk into the classroom at any moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Life protip: bring snacks with you wherever you go—I mean, you never know when you’ll get hungry right? After coming to JC, I realised that everyone actually liked me a lot better when I shared those good stuff.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>曾经想征服全世界</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I used to want to take on the world</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘And self-deprecating jokes—you prolly won’t believe me if I said I actually despise it. Well I’ll admit, it’s de-stressing at times. But it does suck to see my friends (especially my DB bros) casually joke about ending their lives, or even asking people to kill themselves. Yeah, I get it, it’s an internet thing, but to someone who has been to the abyss before, it just feels... disturbing? It’s really rare to find another person who isn’t saying ‘kys’ every few minutes.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I guess... one thing I always regretted was not being able to change DB’s toxic culture. Even when I became captain. I was chosen only because I always volunteered to help buy dinners. Anyway, I’ve a SUPER long list of shit to complain about them, which I can’t be bothered to explain. Brain cells are non-existent at this hour.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Can’t say I love my DB bros, but I don’t straight up hate them either. We were true bros on the waters, but in school? I’m just glad I have you, Otoya and Cecil.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, look,” Syo was already in the midst of laughing when he shoved </span>
  <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/comedyheaven/comments/gj5lc6/guys/?utm_medium=android_app&amp;utm_source=share">
    <span>a Reddit meme</span>
  </a>
  <span> in my face. We were surrounded by tens of other students, streaming out of the lecture theatre once the lecturer finished announcing next week’s test. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, he would always miraculously wake up in his seat just before the bell rang, so I sure as hell didn’t have to act as his personal alarm clock every time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, I was half-laughing at that stupid (but nonetheless funny) meme on Syo’s phone. He pulled back his phone, and I was only focused on zooming straight to the canteen for some sustenance when my ears picked up the clatter of a phone plummeting to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I turned, Syo was already bent down, looking for his phone but also trying to avoid bumping into other students. Then I spotted his phone a few metres away from our position (how the heck did that happen), and I quickly sprinted to pick it up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo realised what I was doing and quickly caught up to me, and for some reason he had a panicked frown on his face. Instinctively, I pressed the home button to check if his phone was still alive, and I was greeted with a NSFW Reddit post. In a flash, Syo snatched his phone back from my hand. With guilty and fast fingers, he obliterated the incriminating evidence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too late, though, the name of the NSFW subreddit I saw—it happened to be one of my frequently-visited ones too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, you actually have good taste in p—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He punched my bag as a warning shot, screaming, “DON’T FUCKING SAY IT—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone turned their heads to our little commotion. My heart tensed up a little. Syo’s face was red, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. He took a deep breath, looking like he was about to shank me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, uh, bro, just... calm,” I chuckled nervously, “I’m not gonna kinkshame you or anyth—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He suddenly yanked me away from the canteen’s direction, and we were now skipping down the stairs to the grandstand. The sudden change from a cacophony of students’ voices to a peaceful, open-air silence allowed me to recollect my thoughts. We were now sitting at the steps, and I looked up at the blue sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude—why didn’t you lock your phone?” I asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a few seconds to reply, “Can’t remember passwords.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean. You don’t wanna expose your porn right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I turned to look at him, and his shoulders seemed to tense up a little. His face looked a lot less panicky now, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just put it as a date you’ll always remember,” I suggested, “like, new year maybe? 0101?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He buried his face into his knees, letting out a series of muffled groans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some birds flew past the clear blue sky above, before disappearing behind the clouds. Oddly enough, in the late morning, the entire field in front of us was bathed in a light shadow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he finally unburied his head and spoke, deeper than usual, “I just don’t want anything to be exposed. Can’t risk my DB bros finding out. I’m not fucking ruining my team dynamics in the middle of A-div training.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean it’s normal to have kinks, y’know—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just—I just don’t want them to call </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>—the Captain—‘gay’! Or whatever other... fucking creative insults they have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sighed, “For the last time, Syo, there’s nothing wrong with being gay—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even IF there’s nothing wrong,” he snapped, “you think those dicks will listen to you??”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fuck, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> fragile is their masculinity?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Fragile...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re prolly gonna nag at me again to go see the school counsellor, but trust me—I can solve my own problems on my own. Been doing this since forever.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>到最后回首才发现</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But in the end I realized</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘yeah the usual right’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933): ‘w teh peng’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was heading out to grab dinner at the nearby food court anyway, so I decided to just get Syo’s portion as well. It was just another night study session.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I returned to school with his favourite roasted chicken rice and </span>
  <em>
    <span>teh peng, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I sat in the canteen, waiting for him as always. When he arrived with his bag, his towel was still hanging from his neck. His contented grin appeared at the sight of sustenance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>这世界滴滴点点全部都是妳</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You are my whole world</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 17:52: ‘gg food court u want anyth??’</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 18:03: ‘oiiiiii r u there’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 18:15: ‘r u stuck in art rm’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933), 18:23: ‘i see u inside wtf’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time was a social construct inside the art room. After consuming a bunch of biscuits in our pantry, I figured I could last the entire evening, working on my coursework. I’d been glued to my seat since mid-afternoon, but hey, it’s not the first time people have been killed by their own inventions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me, 18:25: ‘oh god yeah uh,,,, it’s okay I’m training to be a starving artist’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked up from my seat, towards the door, at the small window pane that led to the outside world. Syo’s face was plastered on it. Once he saw my eyes, his face quickly disappeared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, I wasn’t expecting to see him still in school, even after the art room was closed at 10pm. He waved to me from one of the atrium tables, with his bag already packed. Then he dragged me to the nearest McDonald’s branch (every other food store was closed), peppering the trip with little debates on whether their Twister fries were truly superior to their normal fries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Also—you need to stop skipping meals for art. Or anything that you get yourself into. There’s only so much space in heaven.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>那些年错过的大雨</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The heavy rains we missed in those years</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My birthday started off just like any other chill day in school—except I kept sensing Syo’s intense stare towards me for no reason whatsoever—and I thought—</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah, is he finally going to murder me? Is he??? Make it a painless one please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh, yeah, I almost scared you on your 18th birthday huh? I just really wanted all the plans to go well. Yeah, you’re gonna say that I’ve planned more for this than all the essays I’ve written combined.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I sat at one of the atrium wooden tables, facing the walkway, so I couldn’t see what was on the table behind me. Syo was standing in front of me, but his eyes were, very clearly, looking at something behind me; his hands in a flurry of panicked gestures—like a drunk orchestra conductor. I heard some shuffling behind me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My cheeks puffed, laughter piling up inside me. I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from ruining whatever plans and perfect timing they had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turns out, (surprise, surprise), Otoya and Cecil were scrambling to get the chocolate cake ready behind me. When they finally hit me with the ‘happy birthday’ (and I’d just be really awkward as usual), and the big board with everyone’s well-wishes pasted on it (I was pretty sure Syo got the whole class to write), I didn’t know how to react, except my smile was stuck and my cheeks were wonderfully stretched. We took a group selfie with the cake, of course. Then came the real kicker—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, guess what I got,” Syo bent down and reached for something, pulling out a bundle of—</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh shit, is that cider?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YES,” I screamed in a whisper; one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somersby</span>
  </em>
  <span> bottles was already in my hands, but—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait, this wasn’t part of the—is this even allowed in school?!” Otoya scratched his head. “Cecil, please don’t drop the thing—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘The four of us eventually went to the empty grandstand (honestly the chers don’t care but Otoya looked like he was gonna kill us), and everyone except for him drank. Then, with a half-drunk bottle in your hand, you started blasting Viva la Vida and crying.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Guess I gotta apologise for trashing your music taste. And your love for 2D characters too. Might not fully understand it, but in the end, no matter whether it’s 2D or 3D, maybe we’re all just equally trash. I swear I mean that in a good way.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When I got home and read all the messages on the board, I realised that Syo had snuck a small, obviously poorly-drawn (or, “minimalistic”, if you’d like) version of Yusuke from Persona 5 — my best boy at that time. It was only noticeable if you read his message till the very last full-stop. (And to think he kept trashing 2D guys...)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>那些年错过的爱情</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The young love we missed in those years</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The school was barely filled, since it was the June holidays. Plus, most of Syo’s friends (either from Dragonboat or Korzy or just his fangirls) had already surprised him in the last week of the first semester. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So I figured, in my top secret group chat with Otoya and Cecil, that if we celebrated right on the day itself, he probably wouldn’t expect it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me [69]: ‘WHY IS HE EARLY, OF ALL THE FUCKIN DAYS’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” I said, as soon as Syo arrived at our study table at the concourse and sat down. “I thought you’d be an hour late.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, I can do this, just be chill—</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, looking at me, “Ehhhh I somehow woke up early today, so I just come one hour early lor? Anyway—why are you even here so early?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I—I like to be punctual, unlike a certain someone during lessons,” I was trying to look anywhere but his eyes. My phone on the table suddenly flashed with a message preview, and my slippery fingers instantly seized it in my hands, almost dropping it on the table—</span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck, I need to calm down!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Otoya (sjc) [69]: ‘We’re coming with the cake now! Don’t worry’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me [69]: ‘OK GOOD’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look like you just took a hugeass shit,” Syo commented, biting his lower lips and grinning widely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Otoya (sjc) [69]: ‘Continue distracting him, we’ll come from the stairs near the lift’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By the way did you hear about, like, the latest Stray Kids comeback?” it was the first thing that came to my mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I was the one who told you—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh—I meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>TWICE</span>
  </em>
  <span> comeback, yes—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... I got some pills for dementia, you want some?” He looked genuinely concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, uh, it’s fine, I think you need them more!” I tried to smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae,” he suddenly frowned at me, “how do you pronounce Y-E-S?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was that a trick question?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh,” all my brain cells were working at maximum speed. “yes?” </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Then... E-Y-E-S?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... ee-yes...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit—” he broke into wheezes, looking away, “it worked—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHAT?? Why are you laughing??” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that moment, I suddenly spotted the two latecomers, entering the scene from behind Syo. Strangely, it didn’t feel like my nerves were going to kill me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so fuckin’ obvious, E-Y-E-S,” his face and wheezes told me he was never letting me live this down. But I was more concerned about the cake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his hands, Otoya cradled that single slice of strawberry shortcake inside its half-open box. With both his and Cecil’s cupped hands, they were protecting that single flickering flame from being snatched away by the wind. .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, but surely, they were approaching; my eyes were completely fixed onto the cake, praying to god that they wouldn't trip at the worst possible timing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otoya opened his mouth—”Happy birthday to you...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo turned his head towards the voice; we all began singing (or at least I tried to sing) in unison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awwww yeAH BRO—,” he looked very much like a kid who had found a coin left behind by the Tooth Fairy, “Happy birthday to me—! WOO—” he sang the last line with us, and both of us clapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gingerly, Otoya placed the cake onto the table, with Cecil still protecting it from the wind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yay, time for my wish,” Syo clasped his hands together, eyes closed for a few seconds. Then with a single breath, he extinguished the flame. We were now sitting around the table, soaking in the merry spirit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday bro,” Otoya added, “again!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But on your actual date,” I grinned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A birthday surprise on the day of the birthday itself,” Syo took out the dead candle, “hmmm—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Jae said that—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AHEM,” I coughed loudly, kicking Cecil in his foot, “well looks like someone here saw through my Sinister Plans!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh nooooo how could ANYONE have seen this coming,” the birthday boy was never letting me live this down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and eat your cake bro,” I smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before we almost forget—” Otoya reached into his bag, and finally took out our star-filled mason jar that we had prepared for him, complete with a beautiful pink ribbon attached to the lid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo held it in his hands, and he gazed at it like how he looked at his Mr Hyuga posters. “Shit sia, how many stars did y’all...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can unfold one and read our messages whenever you feel down,” Otoya smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like, if you take one out every year on your birthday, I’m pretty sure it’ll last for your lifetime,” I waited one whole week to say this line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! It’s all of our wishes combined into one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as if they didn’t know that this—could have been his last birthday. Syo was already grinning wide like an idiot, “I always knew I made good life choices.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After we took a group selfie, he began digging into his cake with a plastic spoon. “Oh yeah, how about those cranes over there?” He pointed to the curtain of paper cranes hanging over the atrium, suspended from the top floor, reaching a few floors down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I think that’s Council stuff,” Otoya noted, “they folded a thousand paper cranes to wish us luck for exams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—those weren’t for me?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I still keep that jar, of course, on my desk every day. At first I wanted to unfold everything, but y’all made it so tedious to unfold even one of them?? My fingers legit hurt bro. Guess I’ve no choice but to only open it once a year.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>好想告诉妳　告诉妳我没有忘记</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really want to tell you that I never forgot</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On one of our night study days, we sat below a pink trumpet flower tree that stood on top of the slope, blooming in its season. It was the iconic Singaporean cherry blossoms, also known as ‘pink poui’. Though the sky was black and the school was nearly empty, the campus buildings were still bathed in light from the LED lamp posts. I hoped that there weren’t any creepy bugs that would crawl on me from the soil. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo, on the other hand, was comfortably laid down beside me on the fallen flower bed, eyes closed, hands on his abdomen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” I said, picking up one of the fallen flowers under the tree, “I’d be... lying if I said I didn’t admire you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying to find the right words to say, my fingers fiddled with the pastel pink petals. “I’ve never seen someone so passionate in their hobbies before. Your energy just makes people want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff, y’know,” I placed the flower in his hair, “sometimes I wish I could be like that too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to conquer the world, too. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to study fine arts overseas and be free of my family.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember, I would save up money to buy oil paints and paint in my free time, back when I was 16. I wanted—to be someone of worth,” I almost choked on my tears, “I wanted to change the world with my art. I wanted to do everything I wanted to do. My previous art teachers, my friends, everyone—they looked at me with eyes full of hope and expectations, and I thought I could... soar and fly high.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I came here, to SJ, because I heard the art teachers here were good, and I wanted to do well here. I really did have my future planned out in my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then—” I inhaled, “simply put, I was forced to grow up,” I held my knees close to my chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>那天晚上满天星星</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That night the whole sky was filled with stars</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I met someone like you,” I blinked my tears away, “Someone who was so loud, annoying, self-centred, hot-headed, stubborn... but also someone who was friendly, boisterous, headstrong, ambitious...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A strong gust of wind shook the tree branches, and more flowers gently floated down. One landed on my shoulder; a few more landed on Syo’s shirt and face. He hadn’t opened his eyes, so I assumed he was genuinely sleeping.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I realised—you’re just like a kid who isn’t afraid of making mistakes. You were truly the definition of hedonism. And even if you fucked up, even if JC life is hell, even if... people told you that your ideas were bullshit, you weren’t fazed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>平行时空下的约定</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The promise in a parallel universe</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw a piece of my younger self in you—and I couldn’t help but be bitter, jaded, and disillusioned with my life. I hated myself, for not being able to pick myself up like you do. For letting my dreams go to waste. For letting my own prejudice get the better of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gingerly picked the flowers off of his sleeping face. My tears seemed to stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then—he opened his eyes and said in that stupid announcer-like voice, “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, Jae.” I quickly recoiled my hand, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately,” he sat up, dusting the flowers off his uniform and hair. His voice was softer, this time. “I’m not a superhero, like you said last time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily, I didn’t have to think of a reply. At the next moment, several distant booms reached our ears. We looked up, thinking it was thunder, but we only saw bursts of colourful fireworks, only slightly obscured by our school building. Sparks bloomed like flower petals, before melting into the black sky. A few more rounds of fireworks bloomed. Mesmerised, we sat in awe and silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I forgot what I wanted to say that day. But legit. Remember when I said that Kaoru helped me study for PSLE? To the extent of sacrificing his marks? I can proudly say that I wasted his time and effort. Honestly, that entire year was just a mess and I don’t even remember whatever the hell I was doing. I only got like, what, 228?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Kaoru didn’t want to show his score to me. But I knew he didn’t hit his target of 260. At that time, we still shared a double decker bed. I heard his soft sobbing in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You might say, well, PSLE doesn’t matter anymore. And, yes, we were only 12. But Kaoru’s tears strengthened my resolve to be independent. If I never rely on anyone, I’ll never have to disappoint anyone.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>再一次相遇我会紧紧抱着妳</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That the next time we meet, I will tightly embrace you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo rubbed his eyes, yawning with tears. Gripping his pen, he told himself that he had to finish writing the letter, or else. He checked his phone—02:32. Well, at least he didn’t have to report so early for the graduation ceremony later. It was their last school day anyway, would the teachers even care if he was late?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Well, after all this has been said, I only have one request to ask of you. (Yeah, only one. I swear.)’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes drifted to the corkboard of pictures he’d hung up beside his desk. It was mostly pictures of his class during various events, his Dragonboat team with their medals, and his Korzy members with their bombass outfits and satisfied faces at the end of every performance. Of course, there were pictures of him and Otoya as well, whether it was to celebrate the end of their A-divs or their Korzy stepdown shot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And finally, he laid his eyes on the two big photographs—both of which were group pictures, taken on our respective birthdays. Beside these photos, he pinned up a sketch of Mr Hyuga I’d drawn for his birthday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Jae, please don’t forget about me.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Even after we graduate and go our separate paths.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘After all, the first time you die is when you stop breathing. The second time you die is when someone says your name for the very last time.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘(Yeah I googled that. But you get my point.)’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘If you forget about me I’ll come back from the dead and haunt you!!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘But anyway. It’s strange that I haven’t said this, but, I guess I’m glad to have met you in my life.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘No matter what happens now, I only wish you the best of luck in finding your own happiness. Maybe Charlotte was right all along.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘~Syo’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘P.S. Don’t forget about the Ghana pallbearers thing!!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>紧紧抱著你</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tightly embrace you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gently, under the glow of the fairy lights in my room, I folded the letter back and placed it snugly into the pink envelope. The night suddenly seemed so much darker. I stood up and walked to my favourite mooncake box, where I stored all my precious cards, letters and various memorabilia that people had given to me over the years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lifting the lid, I placed the graduation letter on top of his Valentine’s Day card, which was previously at the top of the stack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After closing the lid, I sat on my bed, hugging one of my soft toys. Maybe five, or ten years down the road, I could look back at this, and think, “Ah—youth—when can I ever get you back again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a hell of a ride, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>when mistakes were made, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>when life was just about grades, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>when I realised I’d never be 18 again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as I was about to text Syo, the battery suddenly went flat for my fairy lights, engulfing me in the black of the night.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>DSA</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>An acronym for ‘Direct Schools Admissions’, which is when schools admit students based on their non-academic talents. Typically used by students with non-academic talents to enter a school with higher and stricter academic standards, which they may not be able to enroll into simply using their grades alone.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Carousell</b><blockquote>
  <p>A local app that allows people to buy or sell stuff online. Usually for second-hand items.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>pops kids</b><blockquote>
  <p>In the local student context, it means popular students.</p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Broadway, Here I Come!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone’s starting to chase their dreams, but Syo has a more pressing concern to address.</p><p>Expect some cultural elements in this chapter too!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>ACT 3 - Paprika</b>
</h1><p> </p><p>
  <em> “ ‘I will never forget you.’ That’s what Paprika flowers symbolise, right?” </em>
</p>
<h2>
  <b>Broadway, Here I Come! by Joe Iconis</b>
</h2><p>
  <em> I'm high above the city </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Syo had followed someone up, and up, the seemingly endless stairs of a random apartment block. He didn’t know why he was climbing; he only knew he had to follow. It was dark, but he somehow didn’t trip over the steps. He was not alone; he was caught in a herd of people running up as well.</p><p> </p><p>At last, they reached the top floor and burst through the door, gaining access to the rooftop. A sea of cold lights greeted him, juxtaposed against the vantablack sky. As he and the rest of them edged closer to see the glorious nightscape before them, Syo suddenly became aware of the tiny cars’ loud honking from the tiny roads.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I'm standing on the ledge </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Without any warning, one of his party sprinted towards the edge and leaped high into the air, as if hugging an invisible balloon—strangely, Syo did not feel any tinge of a warning as he watched—they were floating, not falling.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The view from here is pretty </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Others began copying that first dude’s move. Seeing the excitement and hearing the cheers, Syo didn’t need much persuasion to dive headfirst into this seemingly perfectly safe act.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And I step off the edge </em>
</p><p> </p><p>As soon as his feet left the surface of the rooftop, gravity quickly caught him and he was now plummeting through the air. There was no wind, no resistance, only numbness in his brain as he somehow turned his body 180° midair to face the sky, and the ever-looming building which he leapt off from.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And now I'm fallin', baby </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t breathe for a second—he gasped—and for a few more seconds—his nose was about to explode from the constant, yet vain effort in saving his own life. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Through the sky, through the sky </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Still flailing in the air, a voice entered his mind. “I can save you, but at the cost of your memories—or you can just die.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And I'm fallin', baby through the sky </em>
</p><p> </p><p>In the corner of his eyes, he spotted a health bar, which could have doubled as his measure of altitude. Unfortunately, he was too busy trying to breathe, so the voice continued, “So you have chosen death.”</p><p> </p><p>As the ‘health bar’ dropped to zero, nothing could enter his body except for fear and panic. As his vision crumbled into a black void, he could only feel a floating, fleeting sensation of an underwater explosion in slo-mo; his consciousness sinking deep into his ocean of thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's my callin', baby </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't you cry, don't you cry </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“AHH—” his eyes burst open and he sprang up, hand clutching his chest—<em> heartbeat’s still there </em>—and his exposed legs were frozen in the full blast of his air-con. Hastily, he fumbled, in the blackness of his room, for that luminescent button of the air-con remote and cancelled the cold air with a beep. </p><p> </p><p>Still sitting on his bed, he realised that his nose was blocked—and now it was runny. He grabbed a couple of tissues from the side to clean his nose up. </p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. <em> Forgot to set timer again. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Of course, shortness of breath wasn’t the usual symptom, but still... </p><p> </p><p>He blinked, realising there were tears. With one hand, he gripped his face, using all of its pressure to not think about the options that life had laid out before him. Then he wiped the tears away with his sleeve and inhaled, deeply, or at least as much as his blocked nose could allow him to.</p><p> </p><p>Now, plopping back onto his bed, unable to fall asleep, he grabbed his phone from the side, unlocking it with the PIN <em> 0519. </em>Night mode was a blessing to humanity, and his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He scrolled past his classmates’ prom pictures on his main Instagram feed. And he couldn’t believe it had already been a few days since then... </p><p> </p><p>Tapping on his profile (with his 2.5K followers), his eyes rested on that single pic he took with me that night—with our matching suits and black bow ties, looking dashing—and it was all thanks to his expert fashion advice! (He was surprised that I had zero knowledge of makeup. Apparently, he had learnt the techniques from the girls in Korzy. And I never even realised the guys wore makeup during their performances.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And I'm fallin' down through the sky </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Toward the street that I'm from </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Life after exams was disappointingly quiet. </p><p> </p><p>The sky was a rosey-orange colour; the air, crisp and cool. The clouds above, a dazzling display of short paint strokes, much like that Impressionist painting that he remembered I was babbling about once.</p><p> </p><p>Syo was jogging along the familiar pathway in the park with <em> Stray Kids </em> music plugged in. Some adults were already heading to work. Several of his JC mates were already messaging him to join them in their part-time adventures—and considering the fact that his dad was already nagging at him to get some “real life experience”, perhaps he should stop wasting his post-exams life away on the PS4 and instant noodles. Meanwhile, Kaoru was already at his second or third internship project. (Where was it, again? National Heart Centre or something?) Man, if his relatives knew about this... <em> Reunion dinners, a fucking pain in the ass. </em></p><p> </p><p>And... enlistment? He wondered if he’d even live long enough for that.</p><p> </p><p>His legs were moving, but his entire body felt sluggish, like the warm, melted remains of a Slurpee. Maybe he had too much to drink a few nights ago with his bros. Freaking drinking games; luck was never on his side. Still, it had been some time, surely the effect would’ve worn off by now...</p><p> </p><p>Was there really anything else to life? The amount of gifts and cards he’d received in school was already sufficient proof to him that he had achieved his Ideal High School Life™. Well before his dreaded deadline too.</p><p> </p><p>Well, did his dad mention a scheduled visit to the cardiologist? He kept making excuses to delay it since he had to study for exams, but now...</p><p> </p><p>In the distance, he spotted the swing—<em> that </em> swing—gradually approaching him, before almost knocking into a lamp post.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, Broadway, here I come </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Broadway, here I come </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, I just—woke up,” I sprinted towards my childhood friend, who was already waiting for me at the pathway right below my apartment block. The late morning sun gazed down upon us, of course, before it would bake us alive at high noon.</p><p> </p><p>“The one who lives the nearest will always be late,” she’s used this line probably a hundred times on me. “What time you wake up ah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uhhhh, 10.30? So like, fifteen minutes ago,” I made a sheepish grin with my face.</p><p> </p><p>“Good life hor, JC kid,” she sighed, turning towards the gaping canal beside the pathway. She leaned her elbows on the railing, and I did too. Her brown wavy hair, stirring in the wind, framed her face perfectly as always.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The pressure it increases </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, at least you know what you’re gonna do with your life,” I said, staring at the calm waters of the canal. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The closer that I get </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Good joke,” she only said, accompanied with a chuckle, “and I was starting to think your sense of humour was nonexistent.”</p><p> </p><p>Snickering, my fingers combed my bangs upwards, exposing my forehead to the breeze. My friend here had gone to further her studies at a Polytechnic, so it was always difficult to find time between our mismatched schedules to meet up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I could almost go to pieces </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The two of us stood in unified silence. Some children were playing in the nearby playground, letting out uncontrollable laughters and squeals.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But I'm not quite there yet </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I think... I wanna take a gap year,” I finally broke the silence. “People think that the end of exams means freedom and joy. But really, I just end up confronting that void in my mind—Hobbies? Interests? Yeah, fuck them, we don’t need anything but those As on that slip of paper. Thanks MOE.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> See, I've been bravin' crazy weather </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Drownin' out my cries </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“So it’s the post-exams void,” she noted, “like ‘O’ levels all over again ah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Except this time I feel like I’ve abandoned my brushes and disappointed literally everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I pull myself together </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm focused on the prize </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t even see me back in our secondary school on Teachers’ Day, right?” I pursed my lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I thought you said you were busy studying?”</p><p> </p><p>“... I just feel like I don’t deserve to see my art ‘chers again.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I'm fallin' baby </em>
</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the words left my mouth, the clear blue sky above the canal became slightly blurred.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Through the sky, through the sky </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well—” I clasped my hands together over the railing, smiling, “I guess I just have to finally accept the fact that I’ll probably never do anything remarkable in my life.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Now I'm fallin', baby through the sky </em>
</p><p> </p><p>I turned around, with my back leaning against the railing. That swing was not far away—I could see it peeking out behind those distant bushes.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with living an average life, y’know,” she tried to say, “who would ever want to be the Prime Minister?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It's my callin', baby </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't you cry, don't you cry </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“That’s true.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And I'm fallin' down through the sky </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And it's a tune you can hum </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Otoya (sjc) [clowns]: ‘I’m not sure if you guys alr know this, but I actually have a youtube channel’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Me [clowns]: ‘wait holy shit??? wtf’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo (1933) [clowns]: ‘bro he has like fkin 100k subs how do u NOT know’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘HE NEVER SAID????’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘ur youtube rec sucks’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Will I remain the same </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Huddled on my bed, I tapped the link, which brought me to Otoya’s acoustic cover of <em> Feel Special </em> by TWICE. <em> Dude, he’s singing while playing the guitar?! </em></p><p> </p><p>He ended his video with his usual sunshine smile, “It’s been a while, but I’ll be uploading covers more regularly now! Oh, and this cover is dedicated to my relatives who told me that ‘music has no future’. Because they were the ones who made me decide, ‘I’m gonna pursue music further.’”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Damn. That’s a statement. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Were we foolish for diving headfirst, no warning, into the local arts scene?</p><p> </p><p>My eyes drifted to the mooncake box that stored my old oil paints, gathering dust at the foot of my desk. Maybe nothing could ever replace my first love.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Or will I change a little bit? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo (1933) [clowns]: ‘yo whrs cecil’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Otoya (sjc) [clowns]: ‘He had to fly back to Agnapolis... god, I hope he’s okay.’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo (1933) [clowns]: ‘whr tf is that’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Me [clowns]: ‘somewhere in the middle east bro’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Syo (1933) [clowns]: ‘bro... so he wasnt lying abt it...’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Otoya (sjc) [clowns]: ‘...’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Me [clowns]: ‘oh shit I found his name in wikipedia??’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Will I feel broken or totally complete? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The familiarly pungent scent of turpentine assailed my sense of smell. (Luckily, I’d remembered to open my bedroom windows wide.) Ah, the good ol’ times when we would joke about getting high on this strange new chemical.</p><p> </p><p>Still couldn’t believe it was five years already...</p><p> </p><p>With the small white canvas in front of me, and the reference picture of my childhood friend’s face, I dabbed the tip of my old brush into raw sienna, only hearing, in my mind, the words that changed my life when I was thirteen—’the only thing I’m most afraid of is a blank canvas’—<em>I wonder,</em> <em>do I deserve to hear this line again?</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Will I retain my name when I'm the biggest, hugest hit? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Xiang, come out for dinner,” the dad’s voice rumbled across the living room. After a few seconds, his older son finally stepped out of his bedroom in his usual everyday singlet and shorts. As usual, the twins and their dad sat together for dinner.</p><p> </p><p>There was a sudden rumble in the distant background. Syo, upon glancing out the window, noticed that the sky had turned considerably dark. Even if it was still evening.</p><p> </p><p>Apart from the usual dad-giving-him-food-on-his-plate and awkward silence, his dad suddenly brought up the topic of Chinese New Year (CNY)—Christmas wasn’t even fucking over yet, jesus fuck.</p><p> </p><p>“A good decoration brings in good spirits,” their dad would say every year, “your mom will be impressed. And you know ah, the people next-door already pre-ordered the goodies and <em> yu sheng. </em> We better get new sets of decor.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just use last year’s one la,” Syo drank a spoonful of soup, wishing his parents would stop being so embarrassing.</p><p> </p><p>“The zodiac won’t match,” Kaoru commented, as if his brother was an idiot.</p><p> </p><p>“For the last time, <em> stop </em> dragging me into the decorations—”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Or will I blend in with the rest of the street </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Syo knew his efforts would be futile against the unbelievably, stupidly high importance that his dad (and even Kaoru) placed on being the Most Well-Decorated™ House in the block for CNY. <em> They’re just having fun, </em> he reasoned to himself, <em> it’s stupid, but they’re having fun. </em></p><p> </p><p>Or at least it <em> was </em> fun, until a certain year where things got out of hand with his neighbours. </p><p> </p><p>“Dad, can I not go for the big reunion dinners this time?” Syo popped a question he had been dying to ask since day one.</p><p> </p><p>The sky outside exploded with sudden torrential rain. Cool air from outside rushed into the living room, but Syo could feel his cheeks heating up. Even Kaoru looked at him, with his spoon stuck midway to his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>His dad continued to eat like he had heard nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“We already have our steamboat at home with Mom every year! Who cares about those relatives? I don’t even know their names!”</p><p> </p><p>The rain seemed to grow noisier, peppered with some sounds of thunder. Syo stared intently at his still-nonchalant dad, hoping to persuade him for a way to escape.</p><p> </p><p>“Xiang,” his dad finally began, “we are born with the family we have. You may hate them, but a reunion dinner is still a reunion dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>The rice was starting to taste like vomit in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The people all are pointing </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I bet they'd never guess </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The entire house was suddenly quiet, but it was not a type of quiet they were unfamiliar with. The rain continued pouring. With a frown carved onto his face, Syo stood up with his empty plate, save for a few grains of rice, and headed to the kitchen sink to wash his utensils.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That the saint that they're anointing </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Is frightened of the mess </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Aiyoh, auntie forget already, but which one of you is the older one ah?” that annoying auntie asked, with her inflated airbag limbs and excessively painted face that looked like a white Beijing opera mask (which she somehow thought it was a good colour to match with her distastefully garish floral truck of a dress). If Syo wasn’t already wearing an uncomfortable formal blazer, surrounded by expensive cutlery and chandeliers, and a customary need to maintain thinly-veiled politeness, those thoughts would have been verbal. Or even translated into actions.</p><p> </p><p>His dad cleared his throat, “Xiang, answer your 姨妈.”</p><p> </p><p>Syo didn’t even know what that word meant. “I’m Kaoru’s older brother.”</p><p> </p><p>And he knew she was going to say, “Ohh, so Kaoru is the younger one ah? I heard he’s studying at Zhonghwa right? Of course it’s Zhonghwa la, Kaoru so smart,” Her lips were disgustingly bright red, “My son studied there also, now he’s a lawyer, he earn $200k a year...”</p><p> </p><p>Someone across the dining table let out a restrained chuckle. It was probably that mid-20-looking dude with too much gel in his hair. Beside him, his new girlfriend with unbelievably smooth skin, luscious long hair and doe-like eyes was insanely hot, and it took Syo all of his willpower to not imagine her naked.</p><p> </p><p>His mom finally had a chance to respond—once that auntie stopped moving her mouth—“Oh~ how delightful~ and your son’s grown so handsome, I thought he was someone else’s boy you know!”</p><p> </p><p>Syo simply took a sip of Fanta orange from his wine glass. Kaoru, who was beside him, began to turn the Lazy Susan to reach for that generous plate of steamed fish. </p><p> </p><p>“Aiyoh~” that auntie waved her hand in dismissal, smiling with utmost glee, “natural beauty mah!” </p><p> </p><p>And then she sighed, “Let me tell you ah, I got too much headaches trying to remember all of his ex-girlfriends’ names...”</p><p> </p><p>Her son’s girlfriend looked like she was about to take out her heels, and the guy looked like he would have a better time explaining his position in front of lawyers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But even though I fear it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm playin' all my cards... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The night continued with more polite exchanges and smiling at strangers in exchange for free money.</p><p> </p><p>If there was anything remotely good out of this stupid reunion dinner, it was Syo’s pockets full of at least ten $50 <em> angbaos. </em> Trash might have come out of their mouths, but at least something practical came out of their pockets. He was already thinking of what food to treat his bros with this small fortune. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Baby, you are gonna hear it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When I give them my regards </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to become a medical researcher,” Kaoru said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>The twins and their dad were huddled side-by-side on their living room sofa, focusing their eyes on their mom’s face on the iPad screen, perched on a stand atop the coffee table. The window in her hotel room was fully illuminated.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Qixun ah~ </em> Mom knows you’re very hardworking, but are you really sure you don’t want to try anything else~?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to listen to what your aunties and uncles say,” his dad added, turning to Kaoru on his left.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And I refuse to go numb </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but this is the path for me,” he brought his hand to his chest, “I’ve always known what I wanted to do since primary school. And I will achieve my goal.” Stealing a momentary glance at his brother, he added, “I really don’t need anything else.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, Broadway here I come </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And the last thing I hear </em>
</p><p> </p><p>By the time it was Syo’s scheduled visit to his cardiologist, bouts of unusual fatigue and dizziness were already beginning to haunt him, like insurance agents plaguing the people at MRT stations with their bullshittery.</p><p> </p><p>Laying on the all-too familiar bed in his private ward that night, he googled on his phone, <em> ‘can a pacemaker prolong my life’ </em></p><p> </p><p>The results seemed to take longer than usual to load.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> As the impact grows near </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Still, it wasn’t like Googling something could change a medical expert’s words. He switched off the screen that was starting to blind his eyes and placed his phone beside his glasses on the bedside. Sighing, he closed his eyes; any form of peace would be welcome now, even though Death could whisper in his ears at any moment.</p><p> </p><p>He hoped it was just his medication that was making his body feel groggy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Is it a scream or a cheer? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, my ever-so-faithful<em> servants,” </em> that was the first thing Syo had said when Otoya and I stepped into his ward. I was not kidding. He was smiling with the usual glee in his eyes, sitting cross-legged on his bed with his fancy hospital gown. If we weren’t aware of his pacemaker surgery yesterday, I would’ve thought he was having a vacation here.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, the anaesthesia probably got to his brain. “Lai Qixiang, do you want this <em> teh peng </em> or not—”</p><p> </p><p>He swiped the drink from me and sipped on the straw with a satisfied smile. “Thanks Jae!”</p><p> </p><p>“Delivery fee please,” I snapped, “$500.”</p><p> </p><p>“Daylight robbery, eh,” he continued sipping.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, I think it’s a fair compensation for the emotional distress you’ve caused me,” I grinned.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled out his empty pocket from his pants. “Fuck, I only have like $8 leh.”</p><p> </p><p>I had to turn away with my mouth restraining my laughter (I was <em> not </em> becoming a public nuisance), while he was trying hard not to choke on the drink. </p><p> </p><p>Otoya’s tupperware of fruits was already placed on the portable table, and the two of them exchanged their usual no-homo-bro lines.</p><p> </p><p>“Bro, I can’t go gym with you for like, a while,” Syo sounded genuinely disappointed. He stuck a few apple slices in his mouth from the tupperware.</p><p> </p><p>“I think there are other things you should be worrying about, bro...”</p><p> </p><p>“Bro,” he said, chewing the apple, “I’m gonna miss going gym with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Syo...”</p><p> </p><p>“My man, bro...”</p><p> </p><p>With a firm bro handshake, they stared into each other’s eyes longingly, looking like the perfect couple for a movie about eloping. Sometimes I’m convinced that Syo is a closeted gay. Honestly, that’s not a bad alternate reality.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well, never mind, I'll never find out </em>
</p><p>
  <em> 'Cause Broadway I am here </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>MOE</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>An acronym for our Ministry of Education.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Yu sheng</b><blockquote>
  <p>A dish that is associated with Chinese New Year festivities in Singapore, Malaysia and Indonesia. It is a symbol of abundance, prosperity and vigor. (From Wiki)</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>姨妈 (yi ma)</b><blockquote>
  <p>This is how Syo should address his mother’s elder sister (i.e. his aunt), which is the annoying relative.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>angbao</b><blockquote>
  <p>A term that means ‘red packets’. These red packets contain money, which is a form of blessing. During Chinese New Year, adults typically give children red packets to wish them good health, good grades, etc.</p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nobody Compares To You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Slight NSFW warning at a certain part, though nothing too explicit is described.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>Nobody Compares To You by Gryffin</b>
</h2><p>
  <span>People I knew were either going on holiday or taking up odd jobs and actually contributing to society. For a while, my Whatsapp was mostly silent, save for a few messages from my old friends and a job agent. Never could I have foreseen a time when I actually had to scroll down to see Syo’s name in my list of chats; his spam account was gradually dwindling in updates. I figured, he probably found something else more fun to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thought I saw you at a bar last night</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hid in the bathroom, I just couldn't stay high</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It was simply another Family Sunday in a mall in the city—there was always an event targeted towards families, always the sounds of children squealing (or crying), always the same old goods on discount. That day, though, Syo spotted me parked right beside the ballpit, handing out free helium balloons to children. So obviously, he had to come approach me and ask for one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That day, I finally realised I was not the best at facial recognition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, don’t tell me you forgot—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—it’s you?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Our stunned expressions turned to smiles as I realised, “You look so different without your specs!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nooo? Your eyes got problem ah,” his cheeks puffed up, “and you’re wearing specs somemore!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I scrutinised his awfully plain combination of plain black tee and tightly-fit jeans—he definitely didn’t look like he was just chilling in the mall. “Are you working part-time too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah bro, top floor, Hugo Boss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Retail? Good luck to your legs,” I chuckled, “wait, I thought you can’t do any heavy stuff for now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyah retail only, no kick one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure or not—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—just give me my balloon already,” he pointed to the beeline of impatient kids behind him. Fuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know you could just approach the others giving out,” I deftly untangled one of the balloon strings and passed it to him, “I’m sure they’d give you automatically.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi I’ll have you know I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> drinking milk every day!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, clearly, I can see that</span>
  <em>
    <span>,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You better watch out,” he smiled back, gripping his balloon string tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause I took so much time to reset my life</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But in just one look, I'm back</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After hours of sorting out what could be sold on Carousell and what could simply be burnt into ashes, Syo’s desk in his bedroom was finally free from the mess that made the current Chernobyl look like a meticulously-terraformed land in Animal Crossing. Finally, his dad would shut up about his messiness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He plopped onto his bed, admiring his cleaned table. The birthday jar was, at least, now fully visible. The Gudetama sock plushie, just snugly right beside the jar, was the cherry on the cake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His nineteenth birthday was only a few months away. Frankly, it was strange to think about it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But hey.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Maybe this time God decided it wasn’t going to be a speedrun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, any plans beyond graduation were already thrown out the window since day one. It prolly wasn’t the best idea to skip all those career talks last year...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Man, Kaoru seemed to have an easier life than him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Forget that I could have anyone I like</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But now all I remember is what we had</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t lie about my height bro,” Syo was munching on his Subway, though he was having difficulty trying to contain the bursting sandwich (full of ham, tuna and pickles) in his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bro, if you have to resort to lying about your height, then I don’t think they’re worth your time,” Otoya sat opposite him at the restaurant table. They took up a four-people table (it wasn’t crowded anyway), placing their usual gym necessities beside them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s either I lie or I get no matches bro.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure it’s that bad? I talked with some nice people on the app before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Legit? Which universe you living in ah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... The same one as you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo sipped his drink. “Maybe they just can’t appreciate my awesome pickup lines.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Otoya let out a nervous chuckle as he bit into his peanut butter cookie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, at least Jae thought they were good!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m... not sure if you should be using her as the standard?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well excuse me bro, we only accept the</span>
  <em>
    <span> finest </span>
  </em>
  <span>pickup lines in the world!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody, nobody, nobody compares to you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Somebody, somebody please help me get over you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was weird, yet oddly relieving to be able to talk about kinks and other questionable stuff without any fear of judgement. Syo had tried asking Otoya about it, but it seemed like they had drastically different tastes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo: ‘vanilla is boring bro’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Otoya: ‘I’m just not into whatever you just told me’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He plopped down onto his bed, covering his eyes with his arm and sighed. His usual NSFW subreddits were starting to get stale and certainly not what his raging hormones were craving for. Even then, he was hesitant to switch over to the usual porn sites—the crudeness and over-the-top elements turned him off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Otoya: ‘I wish I didn’t remember this, but if you’re having trouble finding something good, I’m quite sure Jae has some... alternative sources (?)’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo: ‘bro hentai aint my thing’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo: ‘n y wld i talk about porn with my ex crush, thats just weird’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Otoya: ‘Sry bro, that’s all I can help’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And his friend left him with a frustrating grey tick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause it feels like I've been wasting my time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In all the wrong places, on all the wrong faces</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo’s thumb hovered over my name in Whatsapp. Apparently, it’d been almost a full month since we last PMed. We usually spammed the group chat anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, it’s gonna sound weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>—he inhaled—</span>
  <em>
    <span>but a man gotta do what he gotta do!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jae: ‘I only know hentai sites tho. and idt you’re into that right’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo: ‘idc bro, bring it on’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jae: ‘LMAO’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jae: ‘btw don’t bother going into the femdom tag for these sites, it’s 99% shotacon stuff. which is really creepy. but iirc you’re also into other stuff right?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo went to google ‘shotacon’ (those weeb words were so weird), and he immediately regretted every single decision he had ever made that led him to that exact moment in time. Literally, he could feel his dick shrinking back into his body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Has anyone invented eyebleach yet?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo: ‘thx for the heads up. gg regret this’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jae: ‘there’s some pretty good nsfw webtoons too. without shotas of course.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Syo settled on the webtoons I’d sent, though he ended up too emotionally invested in the plot and characters—obviously, he couldn’t jack off to that.</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're once in a lifetime</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Better than New Year's at midnight</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just another Saturday, another day off my shift, another day of freedom. I found myself in the middle of a forty-minute MRT ride, heading towards </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aroma Mocha.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I never had a good reason to head to the city area this frequently, but now... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as I stepped into the cozy, rustic cafe, filled with the usual wooden furniture and warm orange lighting from above, my eyes darted straight towards the bartender’s area, looking for a certain familiar face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, Syo’s there,</span>
  </em>
  <span> with his usual white tee and dark brown apron. In the midst of preparing a drink, he caught my eyes, and we exchanged smiles. I headed to my usual seat in front of the bar, where it was always easy to talk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m glad that the place is a quiet little remote cafe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I was about to open my mouth, but he was faster—“Mocha Frappe again? With scrambled egg sandwich?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” I nodded, still smiling, “the usual.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You always order the same thing at any shop,” he mused, his fingers flying professionally for the right utensils.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Says the person who keeps ordering strawberry latte milk tea with brown sugar pearls, 50% sugar, large size.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well at least we’re making</span>
  <em>
    <span> both </span>
  </em>
  <span>of our lives easier—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> drink—it’s the most complicated one on the menu!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh well that’s too bad,” he smirked, pouring my drink onto the coffee cup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” I straightened my back and leaned forward, resting my elbows on the counter table, “then next time I’ll order that triple deluxe ham and cheese sandwich with caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna get diabetes faster than you can say the entire order,” he let out a suppressed laugh, before handing me my mocha frappe and sandwich.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a challenge?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No leh, I don’t think it’s a challenge for you to get diabetes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lai Qixiang, you want fight is it?” my cheeks were puffing up with warmth, and I had to resist bursting out in laughter in front of several other customers. Syo, too, was visibly biting his lower lips, trying to maintain his image of professionalism.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As always, we ended up chatting till the night, way past the opening hours; his manager allowed me to stay, seeing I was good friends with Syo. “Gotta keep my best employee happy,” the manager had commented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wanna grab on and hold tight</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I won't let go</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, I saw your rant the other day on your spam—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I. GOT. CATFISHED. BY A GAY GUY!!” Syo looked like he was about to crush the plate that he was washing, and I almost fucking spit my coffee out from the imagery of him being picked up by another guy. I mean, it wasn’t hard to imagine it at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“OI STOP LAUGHING—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t catch my breath for five minutes straight. At the end of it all, Syo looked like he had fallen into hell and then climbed back up. His frown, now without glasses, looked even more scary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I meeaan,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I smiled with glee, propping my chin up with my arm, “I won’t deny that you have maximum gay energy—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> gay—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—you paint your nails”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That</span>
  <em>
    <span> doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have a good fashion sense”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was an—odd compliment...” His frown was more confused than angry now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry dude, we’re all slightly gay on the inside,” I was having a lot of fun messing with him. “So, I can’t believe I haven’t asked this, but when are you enlisting?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno man, haven’t receive letter yet,” he was now stacking the cleaned plates. “Hopefully not so soon. Otoya received his, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, okay. But even if you enlist, you probably won’t be doing intense military stuff right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo stopped his cleaning-up actions for a while, and seemed to be staring at something behind me. “I can’t believe I’m actually thankful for that stupid illness now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—I thought you’d prefer physical stuff—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only if I’m not forced to do it, bro,” he began taking off his apron, folding it neatly. “I don’t wanna waste 2 years in NS.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh. This is the first time I hear that you actually have plans after graduation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo bent down to tuck his apron into a hidden cabinet below the counter before standing up, dragging a hidden chair to his side, sitting down opposite me with the bar counter separating us. “It’s nothing concrete yet, but I think I have ideas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spill the tea,” my ears perked up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned in with both of his elbows. “Well, for starters, I wanna go back and volunteer at Club Rainbow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I remember we went there for our class service-learning project. You suggested it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at me, and though his eyes were hidden in the shadows created by the light source directly above, there was a resolute tone in his voice that threatened to reveal his most vulnerable side. If I recalled correctly, that organisation supports children with terminal illnesses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope you can hear this</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933): ‘yo’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘if ur not busy. come watch me play @ that stage outside esplanade tonight’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘got invited by a band a few wks ago to b a guest violinist’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘collabing w otoya’s channel was the best idea ever’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me: ‘are you not inviting him too?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Syo (1933): ‘eh, he not free’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That evening, I sat in one of the many rows of seats at the outdoor waterfront theatre, with the beautiful city lights reflected along the river and the iconic Marina Bay Sands hotel in the backdrop. Apparently, it was common for local bands to hold free outdoor lives—Syo’s item was part of some recent arts festival lineup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway—I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mesmerised by his stage presence. He looked good in his clothes, as expected, but the way he stood—he was like a pigeon with his chest puffed out, looking more handsome than usual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fancy light effects spun into play, and instantly, the euphoric intro music marched into the air—I’d never heard such a perfect fusion of the violin’s classy voice with the unapologetic, raw emotions of the electric guitar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even when his violin took a backseat during the vocals, he rocked his hips to the rhythm. He was always moving, always in the zone, letting the music isekai him into another world. It was... strange, to say the least. I mean, I’d seen him focused before, whether in dance practices or actually studying, but this—to be fair, I never saw him play the violin in JC—there was something different, something... heart-punching that leapt out from his music. Kinda like he was yelling at people, “this is me, look at me, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> fuckin time to shine!1!!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Call me a stupid cheesy romantic (Syo would, even if he’d never admit to being one himself in his own imagination), but man do instruments make someone look so freaking cool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night continued. After the lineup was finished, the crowd began to disperse, and I sent Syo a text saying I’d be sitting at the steps facing the river.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It kinda felt like we were back in school again, waiting for him after he finished taking pictures with his friends and whatnot for the gram. God forbid he forgets to check his texts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Other random strangers sat on the steps as well, either using their phones, or relishing the city’s nightscape and the cool sea breeze. Up above, the black expanse of the night was equally terrifying and calm. I could hear the distant honking of the tourist boats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I got some cider,” the man </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> arrived after what seemed like forever, settling down beside me with some clinks of the bottles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn, what’s the occasion?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To celebrate my debut, duh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I snorted, laughing, staring at the river horizon. “When’s the first album dropping?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was that a compliment? Man, this is really an occasion.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey fuck you, I was being nice,” I jabbed at his arm, and he broke into the same laughter he used whenever he knew I was going to get annoyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing one of the bottles, I realised, “Wait, there’s no bottle opener.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh... shit,” he said, taking out his phone to google something. “Ah, ‘Ten Different Ways to Open a Beer Bottle Without a Bottle Opener’—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna try all of them aren’t you,” I groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent idea Jae, except I don’t have scissors... or a spoon...” his fingers were scrolling down the page.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, we settled on the table edge method, except we used the steps’ edge to pry the bottle cap open. At some point, I thought Syo was going to smash the entire bottle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We clinked our bottles together, and I swallowed a mouthful of that sweetass cider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, maybe you should join the music industry with your skills,” I suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he sounded like he was patronising a kid that still believed in Santa Claus, “if more people can give a shit about local musicians.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What would you do if there were no restrictions? Like, if you could choose any job that you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought for a while. “Eh, a long time ago, I thought, maybe an actor. Or an idol. Someone like Mr Hyuga, you know? A superhero. Can bring joy and hope to people’s spirits. Show them that they aren’t alone, and to never give up no matter how shit it gets.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A noble dream,” I commented; he reminded me of my secondary school self. The buildings’ lights were dazzling in the water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah la, nothing but a dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I took a few seconds to process his words. “You don’t have to be an idol to bring joy to people, you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... Huh? What you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, like, you’re already doing that. Just by being there for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause it's your face that I miss</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the distance, city lights, a mixture of neon bar signs and a couple of other colours, danced on the water, rippling, twinkling, disappearing. It was 12am, yet it felt so much like daytime. The cider was burning inside me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo didn't respond. I turned to my side, expecting to see his face, but he was hunched over, face buried in both of his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude are you okay??” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I—” He propped back up, now one hand was plastered across his eyes, “FUCK—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your lips I wanna kiss</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“BRO,” I cried out, putting my arm across his shoulder, pulling him close. His hair tickled the side of my forehead, and the lights in front of me began to blur. “Dammit now I’m gonna cry too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Somebody, somebody please help me get over you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, my hand reached for his hair and ruffled it a little. I didn’t know what to say, so it was the least I could do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause it feels like I've been wasting my time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In all the wrong places, on all the wrong faces</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>High up, above us, though the sky was a humongous black void, enveloping the whole world, light—from stars, thousands of light years away, travelling through trillions of trillions of kilometres—could still penetrate the void, and reach our eyes—insignificant, surely, but here we are—witnessing it, and, quite frankly, I’d wish this night would never end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody compares to you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>specs</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>Shortened form of "spectacles" in local terms.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>no kick</b><blockquote>
  <p>A Singlish phrase for "it isn't difficult for me".</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>atas</b><blockquote>
  <p>A Singlish word that means elegant or sophisticated. Usually to describe fancy, expensive high-class stuff.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>Esplanade</b><blockquote>
  <p>Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay (also known as the Esplanade Theatres or simply The Esplanade) is a performing arts centre located near the Singapore River. (From Wiki) Also an iconic tourist attraction. </p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Sunflower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Featuring the entirety of Syo’s family dynamics!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h2>
  <b>Sunflower by Rex Orange County</b>
</h2><p>
  <em>
    <span>Woah</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where I can go</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When you're not around</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo suddenly popped his head into the kitchen, “Mom—you gotta 加饭 for Jae. She loves rice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mom, fully-equipped with all her battle-hardened apron and kitchen utensils, began to tease, “Qixiang ah~ you’re starting to sound like your father back when he was just a young man trying to chase me you know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyah I know la, your face is always so easy to see~”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm feeling down</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So won't you stay for a moment?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire family gathered round their dining table. I eventually joined in, seated beside Syo. It was the same feeling as always, always feeling like I was intruding into someone’s privacy. And that particular evening—it wasn’t helping that his mom, for the first time in my life, would be joining.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, the fragrance of the dishes, fresh from the kitchen, drew my vision towards his mom and dad. Hurriedly, but gingerly, they carried the dishes, laying them down onto the various coasters in the middle of the glass table. The mouth-watering food was bathed in warm, orange light from the spotlight above. Oh—and his dad placed my favourite dishes nearer to me. Guess I wouldn’t need to stand up and take.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, everyone was seated around the table, and I found myself sandwiched between Syo and his mom. I observed the distorted reflection in the utensils.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-kay, dig in kids,” his dad announced, chopsticks already reaching for that plate of steamed fish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, there seems to be more dishes than usual today, Mom,” noted Kaoru, grabbing a few pieces of broccoli for his share.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Qixun~ It’s always a special occasion when I come back~” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, his mom began narrating about her grand adventures in Europe. She sounded like me when I was trying to explain the Percy Jackson series’ plot to my friends to convince them to join the fandom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, she’s a travelling orchestra conductor—even has her own Wikipedia page!</span>
  <em>
    <span> What kind of connections does this family have?!</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she mentioned souvenirs—fancy chocolates, weird snacks, some premium wine—then their dad mentioned something about “not buying </span>
  <em>
    <span>(insert fancy foreign word that I can’t spell)</span>
  </em>
  <span>”—and she replied with “oh I bought a box of them~”—”o-kay, then you eat”—”of course dear~ why would I let anyone else eat my favourite food?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah~ Qixiang, Qixun, Mom got you your favourite childhood snacks from France!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Childhood? France?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Syo quickly swallowed his food. “Uh, Jae, forgot to tell you but apparently I lived in France many years ago???”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a beautiful place,” added Kaoru. “But we came back here from kindergarten onwards.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, interesting,” I gave an extremely constructive response. His mom looked at me. “Uh—I’ve only lived here all my life, so...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eh, it’s fine la, not like I remember anything anyway,” Syo reassured me, biting into a piece of braised duck meat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mom then took that as a cue to talk about how Syo, as a silly little child, would parade around the house butt-naked. His dad and Kaoru continued eating in peace, while Syo—well, I didn’t think anyone could look more embarrassed than a shoujo heroine who’s confessing, but here we are.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause right now you know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That nothing here's new</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I'm obsessed with you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mom suddenly popped a question for me, “So~ Jae, how long have you known Qixiang for?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, 2 years plus? We’re JC friends,” I replied after quickly swallowing my food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only 2 years ah? I’ve been his old man for 18 years and I never see him mature so much in 2 years leh,” his dad commented with a hint of astonishment, eyes shining with glee, looking at his wife’s direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s very true!” she giggled, reciprocating her husband’s gaze, “I wonder what made Qixiang start learning to cook~ he’ll be a good house-husband for sure~” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haha, yeah, I agree-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom!” Syo almost choked on his food. “I was just—forced to learn how to cook some simple stuff for my job.” Still, I caught a slight smile on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then I fell to the ground</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you smiled at me and said</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't wanna see you cry</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don't have to feel this emptiness</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, I was busy trying not to focus on the continual screaming in my head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come, come, take more food, don’t be shy,” his dad swiftly gripped a few more pieces of the biggest slices of braised duck meat, and delivered it to my plate from his chopsticks. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aunty’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> specially cooked braised meat. Once in a lifetime only, we get to enjoy this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I wanted to say ‘thank you’, but—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My dear ah~ why you make me sound so old? I’m not that old you know!” His mom scolded her husband coyly; it was as if I was watching a romance drama unfolding between a shy, playful girl and a cool, composed guy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry you have to watch this, Jae,” Syo whispered to me, his face looking like it wanted to cave in. I nodded in apology, for it was the most instinctual response at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaoru sighed loudly. “Oh, what fun to be the fifth wheel!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She said, "I'll love you 'til the day that I die"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well maybe she's right</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>'Cause I don't wanna feel like I'm not me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Syo had suggested, we decided to take a nice little stroll along the park; the path that joined both of our places. Orange light from the street lamps illuminated the tarmac jogging path. The night breeze, though gentle, was able to cool my heated thoughts down, especially after the extremely chaotic dinner scene.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The dinner was better than I’d expected,” I commented, smiling, “It felt like... a kind of family I never had.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s good,” he said, “now try living with them in the same house for 18 years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, I think your mom’s pretty cool,” I turned to smile at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes at me, “Don’t lie la, you just want more blackmail material.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well shit, there goes my murder-revenge plan—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of all people why would you murder </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> for insurance money? That’s just stupid,” he was about to laugh, “Did you even take Econs in JC?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, fuck you bro.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing, my legs did a little skip forward; the one I subconsciously did when I was in high spirits. Syo caught up to me, and I felt his shoulders touch mine for a brief moment. A group of cyclists flew past us, coupled with some other night joggers along the path. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And to be honest, I don't even know why</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I let myself get down in the first place</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m enlisting in a month,” he suddenly said. “Got the letter yesterday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you sound more concerned, Jae?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tryna keep my mind at bay</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess—your first concern is about your hair—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No shit bro, if I shave </span>
  <em>
    <span>botak</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m gonna look like a fucking egg!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sunflower still grows at night</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bald Syo—what a powerful image.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh don’t worry you’re already an egg,” I tried to reassure him, “we are all eggs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to stop watching those 2am vids,” he smiled at me like I’d just sent him a video of Spongebob, Squidward and Patrick singing Vocaloid songs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously though,” my thoughts collected together, “uh, just stay safe? Don‘t end up like that actor who got crushed by some gun barrel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, we reached our usual neighbourhood swing in no time. The full moon hung in the night above, capturing my full attention from where I was sitting. Tonight, it seemed just ever-so-slightly bigger, rounder, and more beautiful. Even the clouds could not obscure its reflected light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I kinda wish we were back in school,” I began, “like, sure, exams were shit, but we didn’t have to care about the world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Tell me about it bro,” He chuckled softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Make it down down, d-d-down</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you want me to expose all your blackmail material?” I thought of all the times he tried to ask me for dating advice, before proceeding to be a jerk to all of the people he went on dates with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diggy dig down, du du du du</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiyah it’s okay la, you think I don’t have yours meh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh, you really are thick-skinned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two clowns are always better than one, don’t you know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can form an entire circus if our kids are clowns too!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right Jae,” he exclaimed with glee, and we high-fived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You know you need to get yourself to sleep</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And dream a dream of you and I</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There's no need to keep an open eye</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he began suddenly, changing the topic, “okay, don’t take this the wrong way ah! But maybe—I’m kinda glad that—you rejected me in J2.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because, uh, I prolly would’ve, fucked it up at that time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I looked at him. He was frowning at the sand below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s in the past now, anyway,” I tried to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heh, yeah,” he smiled at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I promise I'm the one for you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird,” I began structuring my thoughts, gripping the swing’s chains, “it kinda feels the same even after we... get together. I mean, everything kinda just... happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m still pissed that you ruined any chance of a fancy big confession, Jae.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Syo, in my defense, everyone could </span>
  <em>
    <span>kinda</span>
  </em>
  <span> see it coming from a mile away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just let me hold you in these arms tonight</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t expect me to tell our kids such a boring story—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not boring if you start from the very beginning,” I insisted, “remember orientation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would I let myself get down in the first place?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait—shit—why the hell do you still remember that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because your pickup line was so stupid that I couldn’t forget it,” I giggled, and he groaned, squeezing his forehead with a hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And if you think about it—,” I continued, “the odds of two random people meeting in the world—our parents would have to meet at the right time so that we were born in the same year. And we’re not even counting the odds of our parents meeting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tryna keep my mind at bay</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Point is,” I continued, “we somehow met. Somehow ended up in the same school and class. Isn’t that how everything started?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sunflower still grows at night</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That just sounds even more clichéd!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well then good luck finding a time machine to rewrite history,” I shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” he said after a while, “the plot doesn’t sound as bad as your trashy reverse harem shows. I’ll take that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Make it down down, d-d-down</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I coughed, “It’s definitely ten times better than your Hyuga Ryuya x OC fics on Wattpad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“—FUCK I thought I purged that account—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diggy dig down, du du du du</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We got up from the swing and continued strolling along the pathway, since it was getting kinda late. This time, I felt his arm curl around my hip. As we passed more lamp posts, getting closer to my void deck, he began to hum what sounded like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rewrite the Stars</span>
  </em>
  <span>, clearly nailing the high notes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, I guess this timeline isn’t bad at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sprinting madly, the MRT doors flew shut behind me as I took a leap of faith, tripping when I landed, but Syo caught my arm, stabilising me in the last minute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We made it,” I said, after a sigh of relief; the cold air of the train carriage blowing against my face. It was the last train service home. Instantly, I headed towards the row of empty seats, dragging him with me. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We slunk down onto our seats; his violin case was resting on the seat beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>12.15am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think I’ll just sleep,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes, after being called up, last-minute, to replace another violinist at a wedding banquet in a fancy hotel. (I happened to be working in a gallery nearby, so I dropped by for a visit.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can rest on my lap if you want,” I eyed his face, and he looked like I’d just told him how gay sex works in graphic detail, 1080p, for the first time in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And so she sat me down and told me that I didn't have to cry</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“H-Here? In the damn MRT?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s no one around, my dude.” Gently, my hand caressed his thighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Said I didn't need to get down or feel empty inside</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s gonna board at some point!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Says the person who tried to kabedon me in the middle of peak hour train,” I poked his now-puffed cheeks in delight. “Where’d your thick skin go ah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then told me that she'll love me for as long as she's alive</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He intertwined his arm with mine, and nuzzled his head against my neck, perfectly fitting the space between my head and my shoulder. His hair was ticklish; and his body, warm. His breathing was soft, almost fragile. I leaned my head against his, too, staring at our distorted reflections in the window opposite us, floating among the moving lights in the landscape outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And well, maybe she's right, 'cause I hate it when I feel like I'm not me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>See, I honestly, don't even know why</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I-I honestly don't even know why</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, you know my heart is a ticking time bomb. I could leave you anytime.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stared at the dark ceiling above; a corner softly illuminated by the nightlight beside me. It was just another sleepover, though it was our first time sleeping on the same bed, so I wasn’t surprised at the tiny halal gap between us.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’ll be another Stephen Hawkings, you never know,” I tried to reassure the both of us, though the tears had already started to form.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I knew we had to discuss this topic eventually; it was far too overdue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tryna keep my mind at bay</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know he lived, but he was still paralysed,” his voice was as soft as clouds in the sunset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost like we were back, laying at our school field, enjoying the breeze and the bright blue sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sunflower still grows at night</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That didn’t stop him from being one of the most influential scientists of our time, did it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His pinky finger inched closer to mine, and I reached for his warm hand, our fingers interlocking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Softly, just ever-so-slightly, I could hear the faint ticking of his analog clock in the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m scared of the future,” he whispered, voice a little hoarse. “I don’t wanna leave you behind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grasping his hand a little tighter, I turned to my side facing him, and he did, too, closing the gap between us. I gazed at his eyes, as he released my palm, guiding my hand to his chest. His life, his beating heart, like waves lapping at the fine sand. I blinked my tears away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Make it down down, d-d-down</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then we can both be scared of the future together,” to which he smiled at me, squeezing my hand tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jae, will you—stay with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diggy dig down, du du du du</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well—’through sickness, health, for better or worse’, do you want me to recite the entire vow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, ‘cause I might not be able to hear it by the time we </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>get married.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gently, I moved my fingers to his face, and wiped his tears away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the black of the night embraced us, the clock continued ticking softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe I was wrong all along; maybe... ‘happiness in a romantic pursuit’ is actually a result of chance and choices. Or perhaps there was no choice at all; perhaps all of this was planned by fate, and I wondered—as his eyes fluttered close—if I was simply living out a story route, a fixed narrative, that had already been laid out before me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If that’s the case, then Death is a damn good storyteller.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*****</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>The End</b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <h2>GLOSSARY</h2><p>
  <b>加饭 (jia fan)</b>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>Literally "add rice" in Chinese. Commonly used in hawker centres when ordering food, so it's become an iconic local term.</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>botak</b><blockquote>
  <p>A Malay word that means "bald".</p>
</blockquote><br/><b>halal gap</b><blockquote>
  <p>Same energy as "leave some space between us for Jesus and the Holy Spirit". Commonly used in the local context to describe the physical gap between people (usually of different genders), due to them being awkward/uncomfortable/shy with close physical contact.</p>
  <p>'Halal' is a Malay word that means "religiously acceptable according to Muslim law" (i.e. holy).<br/></p>
</blockquote><br/><b>void deck</b><blockquote>
  <p>In Singapore, void decks are vacant common spaces at the ground floor of apartment buildings. Commonly used to hold community activities such as Malay weddings and funeral wakes.<br/></p>
</blockquote>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Alternate Ending Scene</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As the sweet healing tea if your heart broke while reading the last chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Grasping his hand a little tighter, I turned to my side, and he did, too, closing the gap between us. I gazed at his eyes, as he released my palm, guiding my hand to his chest. His life, his beating heart, like waves lapping at the fine sand. I blinked my tears away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diggy dig down, du du du du</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled, biting his lower lips, “Gurl, you make my heart stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, of course!—</span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he would say that. “Lai Qixiang, stop flirting with death ah,” I couldn’t resist a chuckle, and he pulled me closer, leaning in for a forehead kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Waitin' for a minute 'til the sun's seen through my eyes</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Afterword</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>Afterword</b>
</h1><p>
  <span>What started off as an offhand remark, small bouts of dialogues, and some silly shitposts eventually grew into a universe of its own—not by its own, of course—I’m glad to have my friends here to fan the sparks that eventually grew into a hellfire that consumed my entire life for a month.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can’t believe I actually wrote a longass fic in the middle of my school term. This is what quarantine does to people. Two hours saved from travelling back and forth to school every day and I end up with this word vomit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it worth the sacrifice of my schoolwork and possibly ‘A’ level grades? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>... I don’t know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the writer, my original intent was never for SyoJae to become romantically ‘canon’ in its own story (i.e. Act 3 did not exist in the early planning stages). I wanted to convey the idea of transience—things are beautiful because they don’t last. Summer romances don’t last. Youth doesn’t last. Some people appear in your life for only a while, perhaps to teach you something or to give you an unforgettable memory, and then that’s it. No satisfying ending or conclusion. Sometimes they’re the unfinished stories that keep me awake at night, wondering what could have been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not everyone is lucky enough to end up with the person they like. Mistakes are always made and regrets will always haunt us. But, I think, after living 18 years on Earth, that’s a part of growing up—and we have to live with them somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regarding Syo, I wanted to make him more ore-sama (i.e. self-centred), hot-tempered, and coarse. Every time my guy friends look at otome games, they tend to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> weirded out by the male characters. After all, these ikemen are geared towards the female gaze, and we all know IRL guys aren’t as charming at the first sight. I feel the same way when I look at female characters created for the male gaze; that’s definitely not how IRL girls act.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, I took my rose-coloured lens off of Syo, projected onto him some qualities I saw in others IRL, which resulted in this fic. Just him being a chaotic mess of a teen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’ve always been hesitant to write on the topic of marriage—first off, this is obvious but the lack of experience won’t make the narrative convincing. And even marriages themselves don’t last—some end in divorce, some are forced to stay in a loveless marriage for the sake of their children, some realise too late that they’ve married the wrong person. (Perhaps I’m just cynical towards actual romance, as someone who’s been through phases of infatuation and found nothing of substance.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unrelated, but I'd love an alternate ending where Syo comes out as gay and the story becomes a journey of seeking self-acceptance in a largely conservative society. This is probably the True Ending after you unlock Lv99 Friendship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the end of it all, if you end up with the conclusion that “I shouldn’t trust Jae to write romance”, you’re right. I mean, just go back and read the tagline of this story.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before I forget—happy birthday Syo! Hope you’ll relish in all the fanart, fanfics and lovemails that your fans are throwing at your feet. After all, you’re everyone’s favourite tsundere oresama. Never stop being you!</span>
</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Acknowledgements</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>
  <b>Acknowledgements</b>
</h1><p>
  <em>
    <span>The original Uta no Prince-sama characters and franchise is owned by Broccoli and Kurahana Chinatsu.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Special thanks to Clemont (@nentofus) for being super detailed and supportive during the beta-reading process! And especially for helping with Ren’s dialogue in Act 1! It was really cool working with you :D </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To the friends whom I’ve made in the Utapri fandom (and especially y’all in the SG chat), thank you all so much for making my stay enjoyable in the first half of 2020! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To all the friendships I’ve made IRL: the ones that have lasted, the ones which I’d lost, the ones who’ve turned into enemies—thank you guys so much for giving me the little moments in my life that turned this story into a much more authentic one.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>If you’re still reading—thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>for reading this unnecessarily long lovemail to Syo, which was my birthday project for him. </span>
</p>
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